HetaParadokkusu (Hetalian Paradox)
by Sa-ChanCentral
Summary: A war is suddenly waged between all the nations and their opposites, the 2P!Nations. Paths cross, bonds bring different countries together, and enemies are made within. Between the fighting, compromises, struggles, and newborn discoveries, every country will realize that in order to defeat the demons inside them, they need to face their demons. Rated T for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1: Going into the Darkness

HetaParadokkusu (Hetalian Paradox)

Chapter One: Going into the Darkness

_"To face your demons, you have to chase them. And to defeat them is to find your own weakness. Face your fears... for they are also facing you."_

* * *

An Italian man stumbled his way through the hallway towards the meeting room, anxiously catching up, trying to beat time. He panted, gripping his papers and folders. The young man called out in pathetic desperation to anyone who was going to participate in the meeting, but when his memories were recalled, everyone had already sat down in the meeting room. Italy bounded towards the huge stairway.

"Germany! Japan! Come on, guys, wait for me, ve~!"

He tripped going halfway up the stairs, but revived out of shock, making his way to his fellow countries. He almost pushed away other nations blocking his path and apologized sincerely with his head hung low.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry, Switzerland!" Italy sprinted to the doors. The Swiss man sighed in annoyance, holding his sister's hand for protection's sake. "I hope that you never miss anything important, Lichtenstein."

She nodded timidly and watched as Italy ran in a panic.

The Italian couldn't believe that the meeting was being held during his siesta... Germany would have woken him up with his booming, irritated voice, but the German man himself didn't want to be late from his comrade's sake of sleeping in.

_It's my fault! If Romano hadn't flipped me out of bed, I wouldn't be here right now!_

He sprinted in a nervous panic, but was able to finally catch his breath when he gripped the door handles of the meeting room. He pulled the doors apart, and seven other faces turned to Italy's arrival in disappointment and annoyance.

Italy held his breath, and laughed out loud, exclaiming with pride: "I'm here! Sorry, you guys, I had my siesta, and I didn't set my alarm! I totally forgot!"

Some nations rolled their eyes, some held their breath, and Russia smiled questionably.

"Good to see you, little Italy," Russia greeted, "I thought you would have forgotten me." The aura that suddenly surrounded Russia terrified the young Italian to the point where me almost wet his pants. "Ve~... Scary Russia..." he whimpered, trying to find his seat.

England grunted, tapping on the desk. "You're late. Everyone got the message that the Eight Powers had a meeting at precisely one O'Clock. You missed your chance for any respect or redemption. Now sit down."

"Yessir," Italy slurred, drooping in his seat. His friend, Japan, barely seemed to notice. This was a usual situation that only happened with Italy around. Germany, however, sat in fury of Italy's embarrassment.

"Damn it, Italy..." growled Germany, placing his hand on his temples, "You do this all the time."

France interrupted the German man, shaking his head. "Germany, you are too harsh on him. He is a little late... does that matter? He is here." France winked at Italy, who smiled in return, silently thanking his friend for backup.

America coughed, suddenly slamming his palms on the table. Italy yelped in shock as China's eyes widened. "Is that really necessary, aru?!"

America grinned, revealing a set of white, polished teeth. "Yes it was! But let's get to the nitty gritty, shall we boys?!" The young American laughed in his own pleasure and pointed directly to the chalkboard behind him, showing various pictures of strange places and events. "Look here, bros! I got some information and stuff about today's meeting!"

Italy squinted. From what he saw from seat on the round table, the pictures were mostly portals of darkness and places that looked like something from a fantasy world. The trees were bare while it was still summer, and the leaves and flowers flourished during a snowstorm. The sky was black in the daytime and blindingly white during the night. He saw objects... no, citizens... walking with their heads down low, dragging their feet to walk. Some had chains, some had blood. Some were dead on the ground.

Italy had never witnessed anything so horrifying. Not since the Second World War. Even Russia, one of the most mentally torn nations, shuttered at what he saw.

Italy whimpered unintentionally. then he turned in embarrassment.

America parted his lips in negative surprise. "I didn't know that it would be this bad... the thing is... my boss sent these into me, sent from special spy forces in my country... but I didn't know what I'd be looking at would be this terrible..." He was trembling when he finished explaining.

England's eyes widened. "What is this...?"

China cringed, looking away. "I don't know... I haven't seen something like this in a long time, aru..."

France gripped his forehead. "This is not anything from our world, then. Everything's been peaceful between all of us countries, despite our arguments from time to time."

"True," Germany grunted, "But where are these images from? America, you bastard, you've better not have created these false images to scare us into one of your advertisements..."

America stood up, clearly insulted. "No! Of course not! These are live, dude! I just opened up the folders and set up the pictures! I had not idea what was on them!"

England mused, still glaring at the pictures posted up on the chalkboard. "Well, tell me this... why the bloody hell are people suffering like this? This is scarring for me, at least... I just don't understand why these exist. America..." the British man turned to America, staring at his former colony with intensity, "... how did these get to you, if all these people are going through this unnecessary torture?"

Everyone was silent. The sounds of uneven breathing were the only thing heard in the large room. America clenched his jaw.

"I got these from a few members on the Secret Service," he replied, "But when I called the members to thank them, I was left a message that the men were missing in action."

Not even the sound of breathing could be heard. Just the pattering of separate heartbeats.

"There's no way..." China shook, looking in the distance.

Russia shook his head without saying a word.

The only country in the room who couldn't hold his emotions in was Germany, turning red while processing the information given to him. As a country of strong nationality and right-doing, he slammed his fists on the table, nearly breaking the wood base in half, creating a straight crack towards America.

His chest rose and sunk as he gritted his teeth. "This is no excuse... that this sort of chaos would happen... to find a solution, WE NEED TO GET ON THIS CASE!"

Italy, but unconscious will, nodded his head repetitively. His mind was everywhere; he had no idea how to wrap his head around the problem given to him and his fellow nations.

France blinked, noticing a trend. "Wait... these portals that come up... they are right next to some landmarks of ours... Japan, isn't that Mount Fuji next to that black hole?"

Japan narrowed his eyes, taking a glance at the picture France was pointing at. "Yes... I believe it is. But this is not a complete conclusion, France-san. Why are they appearing, is the ultimate question-"

America interrupted, blurting out his thoughts. "Yes! Why are they there?! I know it's not Tony causing this; I checked with the little guy earlier! He said he's not sure, but he analyzed what it could be, and that it's something that's totally evil!"

England twitched. "It's not my magic, is it?!"

Russia tried to smile sweetly. "Well, it's not me either. I'm usually the antagonist in all of the messes that America creates, so I'm not to blame."

America shot Russia a nasty glare, the look of vengeance in his bright blue eyes. China covered his head with his hands, under pressure. "Let's not get into the fighting! We need to pay attention to what is happening here! We're all going into panic about this!"

The tension in the room melted between America and Russia, who turned from each other. England broke the silence with a heavy breath.

"We need to figure this out, gentleman. Without anyone getting hurt or worse in the process. America's spies are missing. That's a clue right there. These portals show up at random places and we have pictures of what seems to be a completely opposite world from ours; another dimension perhaps. But they are our people, OUR people, despite what country they are from. We are here to protect ourselves, true, but most importantly, THEM."

France nodded with a hopeful smile. "For once, I have nothing to say against you, Angleterre."

America chuckled to lighten the mood. "Good then. I'll get to what's going on. We should all declare a country emergency for all of our people, and..." America dropped his jaw, staring in Italy's area.

Soon everyone had turned their heads, and Italy opened his eyes, afraid of what they were witnessing. Something had Italy by the throat, a steel-like grip that was lifting him up from the ground. Italy's mind was in a cloud, trying to make of what was lifting him up, but a hand with a chloroform cloth covered his mouth immediately. He tried to realize what was slowly happening, but the effects from the liquid cloth had him dazed and dreary. His golden eyes rolled back, and his mind drifted into a complete blank, sedative state.

Germany blinked rapidly, rising in action from his seat. There, out of the blue, was one of the portals that he had seen in the multiple pictures America had shown. He saw with his own eyes, another Italy coming out of the darkness, lifting up Italy with an unknown brutal strength. He couldn't do anything but watch in horror as he saw Italy pass out in this stranger's arms. A gun cocked in the other hand, raising it to the head of the unconscious Italy.

"Don't move, or I'll blast his brains out, bastards!"

The man threatening to take Italy's life was Italy himself.

. . .

Germany was attempting to visualize the image he was given. It was frightening, but vivid, nothing of an illusion, but harsh reality. The man who was holding Italy hostage from the portal was indeed Italy, but wore clothes that was part of the standard brown Italian war uniform. His torso was wrapped in a maroon tassel, and he wore a standard brown military cap. But what truly struck Germany was that this version of Italy had the brightest pair of purple irises that the German man had ever seen. This Italy's smile curved into something similar of pure mischief and evil.

"Good... stay back, bastards, or my friend here will pay for his stupidity."

The original Italy never moved. He slumped over in his doppleganger's arms. The captor Italy laughed menacingly.

"Well, this might be strange circumstance for you all," he grinned, "But before I take him with me, I might as well wage war. I am the infamous Veneziano Italy, the leader of the Eight Powers. We might as well call ourselves your inner demons; your opposites. We live and reign in lands that we control. Our people serve as our slaves. But we want more than what we have already. That's why I want to declare war on all of you."

The tension lit the room on emotional fire. Germany could barely hold himself.

"LET ITALY GO-"

Japan stared at Germany, beckoning him to cease any intent on attacking. The doppleganger Italy rose an eyebrow in amusement.

"There's more," Italy smiled with cunning, "If you give in immediately, then blood will not be spilt, minds will not be ruined, and everything will run smoothly, well, for our benefit. If you do not comply, then we simply have no choice but to show you hell."

England, shaking from shock, was the first one to raise his voice to his opposer. "You have no army... no one to compare to us and our strength. What the bloody hell makes your countries stronger than us?!"

Italy rose his cheekbones. "Simple. We are your darkness. Your weakness. We know you better than you know yourselves. You'll all fall like cards in the wind, one after the other... if we decide to invade your world."

Russia mustered up the audacity to smile in his intimidating aura. "Surely you have no idea how after every fight, every battle, every war... we come back standing stronger than ever. There are fears we conquer everyday. Starvation, disease, war, execution... if these seem like play to you, than we'll gladly go against your suggestion for giving up."

America gripped his seat. "As a nation of pride, I'm not planning to give up! Show us everything you've got! We'll tackle everything you throw at us until we die trying!"

Italy laughed bitterly. "That was a stupid remark. Stupid, young American. If only you could see your face... but I'll get to the bitter insults later. As for this little 'conversation', I understand that you all are not complying to my request of surrender?"

No nation spoke in fear of the trigger near the captive Italy's head. The Italian doppleganger chuckled. "Ah, the sound of silence. 'No, we want to surrender', should be the appropriate answer, but if you idiotic countries want to stand straight while walking to your graves, that's fine with me. I'll agree to this war, then. Prepare your funerals early. As one of your heroes once said, America... what was it...? Ah, yes. 'There is nothing to fear... but fear itself'."

America stiffened as the evil Italy tilted his head and sighed, cocking the gun to his victim's head. "Then it's settled. War it is." He looked down at his original country, who sighed happily in his sleep, then grinned, exiting into the portal above. "Germany... isn't he cute while he's sleeping? I hope, for your pathetic sake, that he still hold his sanity, let alone his life when we're through with him." The echo of cackling dissolved as the black hole to the opposite Earth shrunk until nothing was seen.

. . .


	2. Chapter 2: No Savior Here

Chapter Two: No Savior Here

_"If I dare shoot myself down, carry me home to finish this."_

* * *

. . .

The feeling and images of war came to the minds of all nations. The loss of lives, the blood-curdling cries for the sake of nations and honor and the idea that they might lose sank in their hearts. Among them all, Germany was shaking in his own loss of control. Looking down with wide, piercing blue eyes, he curled his fists, trembling in fear.

Japan was an individual who claimed to sense the mood. He stood in silence before anyone could react, and first turned to a maddened Germany. Italy, his apprentice, his everyday annoyance, and his best friend, had been taken hostage by the paradox nations. Japan knew Germany well enough that he would be careless and lead the battle without coming up with a strategy. It was almost like a part of the German man had gone along with Italy.

No one in the room said a word, but just looked into each other's eyes, searching for hope. For once, no nation knew the plan to conquer this new war that would arise.

America didn't even know what to say. "... Guys..."

The shock faded from the room once the young nation spoke. Germany finally let out a yell that probably shook Mother Earth.

"THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE!" he cried, flipping the twenty meter table over with no hesitation. China flinched at this action. Japan simply sighed.

"Germany-san-"

"JAPAN, DO YOU SEE WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!"

The Asian nation nodded slowly. "At the worst of times, it's better to remain calm during any situation. I know that it is frightening about what just happened to Italy-kun, but..." he paused, rising from his seat, "We must take action with a clear head. We mustn't go on a world-wide rampage. We need a steady plan. And Germany-san..." he turned to Germany, who was still clutching the table in attempt to control himself, "... have some faith. Italy can fend for himself very well-"

England scoffed. "Yes, he can defend himself... by running away..."

France stopped his friend from continuing. "Please, Angleterre. I believe in him. As his oldest brother, I have the feeling that he'll be fine and back here again, safe and sound."

Everyone looked up at the French nation, and holding everyone's attention, smiled for the first time since this whole dilemma had been brought up. His grin was full of confidence not only for himself, but for his fellow nations. America copied his grin.

"Ha-ha! Then let's end this war early! We'll fight with everything we've got!"

For once, Germany had copied the young nation's expression with a newfound energy. He trusted that Italy would be safe and alive for the time being; until he came in to beat the living souls out of anyone in his way of winning the war. He would decide to call Prussia and his other allies for backup... and with others fighting for Italy's sake, he'll seise the day and live up to his name.

Everyone cheered, and Russia smiled with uncomfortable satisfaction. Though the optimism in the room escalated, Russia couldn't help but believe that the battle would be hard to win...

Germany looked up to the space where Italy had been taken. That blank spot in the air that his best friend had disappeared in.

"Italy... I'll get you back... I'll promise on everything I have."

* * *

The Italian nation felt the world come to him, and once he heard a thump on the cold hard ground, he opened his eyes. He lifted his head slightly, still making out the scenery.

His surroundings consisted of just all iron and stone; this was in fact a hallway in a prison. The Italian man stumbled on his feet, his heartbeat skipping every other pulse. This was an unfamiliar, slightly eerie setting. The last moment he could come across was being lifted up on front of the meeting room, but meeting with darkness quickly afterwards. But Germany's continuous screaming echoed in his mind. Tears swelled up int he young nation's eyes, confused and frightened.

"Ve~...?"

He paused, but a foot grazed his back to keep him down, then stomped in front of his path.

"Finally back on the rocker, are we?"

Italy looked up, his ears picking up a familiar voice. "America...?"

The Italian was almost in an automatic relief. The feeling of knowing that one of his fellow nations knew what was happening was comforting. Italy was patiently waiting for a heroic, yet somewhat obnoxious laugh to reassure him that everything was fine.

But his eyes must have deceived him in some way. When he perked his head up, a man with a dark brunette head and deep red eyes greeted him with a nasty smile, picking him up with a simple hand by the rope bind that tied his hands together. The unknown nation sounded exactly like the America that Italy knew, but he spoke gruffly, intelligently, and violently. He seemed excited, looking at his prisoner like a piece of meat, the lust of kill in his eyes.

"Oh, I've waited a long time to torture a 1P... the scent of fear clings to your flashy Italian clothing. Ya know, since I've got to take you in first, I might as well go after your f***ing brother Romano as well... he looks equally as vulnerable; even more feisty, probably. Scared shitless, I'll bet. You'll both be begging for mercy with me and my monarchy..."

Italy's eyes widened. "Monarchy... American monarchy?!" The contradiction struck Italy in the heart; there was no possibility of this world being realistic.

The brunette howled in laughter. "It's my policy! I'm the oldest country in the Great Eight, and I rule my people with an iron fist! Who needs that democratic crap when you can just pronounce yourself king?!" His laughter echoed, bouncing against the walls.

The Italian shook his head in desperation. "W-where am I?!"

"The Paradox World, of course. We're the opposites, well, your opposites. Like, let's just take me for example. I'm handsomer, I rule a communist, totalitarian monarchy, and I have better hair than that other f***ing bastard I saw in the spy pictures we took a few days ago. Weak... absolutely weak. I bet I could take one slug to the head, and he'd be down, dead as a dog in a few seconds. Hey... what are you looking at, meat?! Come on, you're conscious, move yourself."

Italy was forced onto hid feet and treaded across the cold floor, very aware and afraid of the details of dried blood and sharp nails that shone on the wooden baseball bat this version of America carried. Trembling, he stopped in place.

America's temper was about to rocket. "WHAT?! What's the matter?!"

"Just... please don't hit me with that... I want home... I want Rome..."

America spewed a hysterical bought of laughter, pushing his captor with the baseball bat. "Oh, you have no idea what fear is. I've been through more wars than your Grandfather has lived through. Keep moving, or I promise you death. Our leader wants your alive for purposes I have know idea about..." he paused and leaned in towards Italy's ear, whispering his desires, "but I'm not afraid to see to it that I have your little head..."

"Oh! America! Who've you got here?"

America backed away from Italy and rolled his deep red eyes in annoyance. "Ugh... you again."

Italy shook the image that came to his vision out his head, then looked again, finally seeing that the man approaching him skipping was not fantasy. There, in the flesh, was England. This time, he had cotton candy-like hair, and freckles and cheekbones like a little kid. He dressed in a blue bow-tie and a colorful light pink vest. But what struck Italy were his eyes that contained an unnatural mesmerizing blue and purple effect to them. He almost got lost looking right at the Paradox English nation. The man smiled wickedly, addressing both America and Italy. He bowed, giggling.

"Hello, loves~! I'm England!" He came in towards America, grinning evilly at the whimpering Italy. "Should I give him a cupcake now or later~?"

Italy quickly interpreted that as code; England could never cook anything, never mind a little cupcake. But regardless, Italy looked down at the ground, whimpering like a lost puppy. England cooed, patting him on the head, nearly going to touch his curl.

America slapped England across the face in annoyance. "Later, idiot. I want to break him first. Also, get France and tell him to be on his way. Tell him that Italy's spread the word about the war. Holy shit, I can't believe that you used to be my colony..."

England recovered, his smile glowing with a perfect set of pearly white teeth. "Righty 'O! but please, I want to introduce myself to your friend~! If the little gentleman doesn't mind~!"

America groaned. "Whatever."

"Good~!"

Italy was still in a state of utter confusion. Shaking, he looked up to this version of England, hoping for a change of behavior from the original Britain, who handles every situation as a proper gentleman and very strictly, almost like Germany.

The English nation beamed, holding himself almost. "Again, I'm England~! I would ask if you wanted a cupcake, but I left them back at my interrogation area. What a shame, eh, poppet?" He winked at Italy, but continued. "I am infamous for my cooking, dental hygiene, obsession with messing minds, and possibly messing with yours! I am indeed the interrogation specialist for this war, for my eyes... can hypnotize~!" He giggled immaturely, pointing to his guest. "Might if I demonstrate-"

England stepped in front of Italy, fixing his bow-tie and peering into Italy's face, trying to catch his eyes. America was annoyed to the point where he could smash his former colony's face with his bat.

"That's enough, Asshole," America scoffed, carrying Italy along by the chokehold, "If I hear more of your crazy shit, you'll be feeling so much like shit that your grandkids are going to feel it."

"I'll take that as a compliment, love~!" His cheery voice faed in the distance as he ran to deliver his friend's message.

"Whatever," breathed America. He pulled his prisoner violently, and Italy gasped for breath. "Please, please...!"

Once Italy had gotten a chance of breathing air, he was pushed directly into a cellar, and was forced into the corner, tied up and gagged by America, and was locked directly inside the iron bars. America laughed manically.

"Oh, you're in a panic now, huh?! Wait 'till little Britain gets a hold of you. I don't think you're going to be the same. And as for meeting Russia... you'll be bleeding more than thinking."

Once America left, tears formed in the corners of Italy's golden orbs. The people he had tried to contact mentally had not shown, and he felt that he hadn't truly woken up from this nightmare yet.

Germany... Italy prayed, shaking in the corner, I don't think I can run away right now... I'm sorry for being so weak for you... I'll learn my lesson, but I won't get another chance anytime soon...


	3. Chapter 3: A Helping Hand

Chapter Three: "A Helping Hand"

_"All it takes is a little manipulation and illusion, and the cards you play start getting better..."_

* * *

. . .

"What?! West, my bruder... are you SURE...?"

Prussia grasped the phone he was holding, his knuckles turning whiter than his albino-like skin. Germany, on the other line, nodded furiously. "So that's what happened. Bruder, I don't want you to overreact. I-It's something that can be fixed-"

"I can hear you stuttering, West. It's not just something that a couple army troops can conquer in the matter of a few days! This is a full-fledged war, West!"

The two German brothers were in new and old states of shock. Prussia had been called about the news about Italy's capture and the Great Eight's declaration of war against their opposite counterparts.

Prussia, trying not to hyperventilate in panic, steadied himself. "Just... don't worry. But don't underestimate these guys. They sound rougher than you're describing them, well, at least that Fake-Italy. I'm coming with you guys."

Germany nodded feverishly on the other line. "And I heard that Canada, America's brother, is coming too."

"Who?"

The younger brother sighed to himself. "Never mind. The idea is that we have more countries backing us on this. Switzerland declared himself and Lichtenstein neutral, so they're not going to be of any help. Spain jumped on the opportunity when France told him, and I haven't gotten to anyone else yet. All I know is that there will be more coming to our support. We'll try to find a way to their world with those random portals that show up from nowhere, so departure time might be anytime."

Prussia swallowed. "Good. And West... just, be careful out there..."

"I will." The click of the opposite end surprised Prussia abruptly. He put down the telephone slowly to its proper place, and sat on the chair nearest to him, rubbing his temples.

"It hasn't been this bad since the threats during the Cold War..." Prussia mused to himself, "Mein Gott... if we don't finish these guys off, then we might as well be screwed..."

"Oh, you are. I guarantee it."

The voice that Prussia heard behind him was quiet, almost venomous. He never even got the time to turn around to see who had intruded into Germany's house. His mouth was covered, and the last thing he thought of before the effects of the chloroform took over was Germany's smiling face.

. . .

"You bastard! My fratello was kidnapped?!"

"Nation-napped, actually." Spain chuckled awkwardly.

Romano's face got redder than any of the tomatoes in Spain's backyard. He pulled tightly on Spain's shirt, expecting answers. "WHEN WAS THIS?!"

"France just called me! Man, you look poofier than a pancake!"

"HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO CALM DOWN, BASTARDO?!" Romano was on a rampage, sprinting throughout the house, flipping over and breaking every single piece of furniture Spain had throughout the first floor.

Spain held up his hands, trying to clam him down. "Look, I'm coming with you to look for him. It might take some time before we do, but we will."

"BUT MY FRATELLO-"

"We'll find him. Just be prepared to leave any time, mi amigo." Spain winked and set Romano down on the couch, patting his head. "Here, calm down. Have a chuuro."

"Asshole," Romano spat, "We need to get him back. Who else is supposed to cook, or do all the artwork, or calm down that Meat-Head Germany? Not ME!"

Spain spoke from the kitchen. "Come on, mi companero. When was the last time that Germany failed at doing something?"

"Um, I dunno... WORLD WAR TWO?!"

"Well... that's hard to come back from. But he's hard working, intelligent, and we're going to have to work with him to get back your hermano."

Romano leaned back on Spain's sofa, folding his arms together. Germany and Italy were always together, ever since Germany caught him during WW1. Romano had always been jealous of that relationship that he witnessed between the two of them. Spain himself had tried to make that connection, but Romano was too stubborn to rely on him and tell him that he truly cared. Romano gripped his pockets in irritation.

"Spain... just promise me this."

Spain poked his head through the kitchen door. "And what is that?"

"That you'll keep me even-headed when I meet the Potato-loving bastard for this mission. I don't wanna talk to him, and he doesn't want to talk to me. Fine with that, damnit. But if I wanna be honest with myself and rescue Veneziano, then I need your help to calm me down."

Spain couldn't help but smile. "Like always, amigo!"

. . .

Prussia woke up with the walls closing in on him.

His head reeled, and the atmosphere smelt like ash and metals. It sickened him; even the floor smelt like something long past expiration date. The moment that his vision became clear, a familiar face was beaming in front of him.

"Prussia~! Ve~! Wow, it really is you!"

The Germanic nation groaned, gagged by the cloth on his mouth.

Italy gasped in surprise. "Oh~! Here, I'll try to help! I got mine off! Just move your face a little..."

Prussia struggled for a time, but finally succeeded in moving the cloth from his lips and moving it down to his neck.

"Italy... where the hell are we..."

Italy paused to muse, but his expression changed to a worried state. "Prussia, we're in the other world~! It's terrible! I've been here for hours, and I've gotten no pasta! I met America and England, and they're evil!"

Prussia's jaw dropped. "And... we got kidnapped... aw, fuck. GREAT. This can't happen to the awesome me!"

"I know! But we have to think of a way out before-"

"Before what, my loves~?"

England approached the cell and smiled in mischief. Italy cowered behind Prussia, whom in return, laughed at the version of England in front of him.

"Pffff... really, England? Wow, I thought you looked bad during the Seven Year's War, but DAMN. You look like a manly cupcake."

"Thank you, my duckie~!" Britain laughed, straightening his bowtie. "I looks stunning, as always, don't you think?"

Italy screamed. "Don't look him in the eyes, Prussia! And don't take anything that looks like a cupcake!"

Prussia laughed. "But look at him, Italy? He looks so... pffff!" The mockery oozed off his words, and England chuckled to himself, getting to know his newest victim. Victim. Prussia wouldn't know it yet, but he was going to be a major role in England's success.

"Mr. Prussia, you'll be coming with me. As for Italy, well... I hope loneliness doesn't nub you in the buttox~!"

England reached into the prison, grabbed Prussia's bonds, and started dragging him mercilessly, grinning widely. "Let's see how any cupcakes we can stuff in that loud-hole of a mouth, right poppet~?!"

Prussia turned in alarm, screaming at Italy, tugging back from his bonds. "Italy! These words are from the awesome me... find West for me... and tell him that-!"

Immediately before his message, England had stuffed a cupcake that he kept in his pocket into Prussia's mouth. Germany's older brother disappeared in the hallway, quarreling to get free, mouth stuffed with pink cupcake.

Italy shivered, trying to find warmth in his bondage, feeling isolated.

"Oh, that little man... he thinks he's all mighty..."

Another man entered the room, obscured with smoke coming from a cheap cigarette. Once the mysterious nation came close to Italy's cage, his face was clear to depict.

His stubble, stained teeth, unemotional purple eyes, and unwashed hair made Italy's skin crawl. "B-big brother France...?"

"Actually, little brother France. There was a need of correction on that one. But yes... I'm the counterpart France."

Italy sat in shock. "B-but... y-you're not anything like France... you even smell worse than him..." The young nation shrank his head back and cringed. "Ew..."

"Well, if that's how you're going to react to your only help, then screw you."

Italy blinked, turning to the nonchalant nation. "You're going to help me...?"

France shrugged. "Sure. It'll be easy. I don't really like the bloodshed that's going on since your counterpart took over the leadership. It's too messy, and there's not too many people there that want to go to my poetry jam sessions." He snapped, nodding his head slowly. "It's nothing too much, and also, any side that the little pink ball of disgusting spaz is on I'm not. He's disturbing. His smile scares me to the point that I think he might sexually attack me. It's not clean, not clean at all."

Italy attempted to smile. "It's true...! Ve~! And that America, too. He looks like he wants to eat me, ve~! H-he's scary..."

"UGH." France was taken aback, gagging at the thought of America. "He's just as bad. He ruled over me since I was a little nation, but I got back at him... oh, yes... I did. But let's get to the point, shall we? I want to help. I just need the keys to let you out..."

"Ve... America took them when he left."

"Damn that America," France snapped, clearly upset at the situation, "But I have a plan that's sure-fire. Come; lean closer to me."

Italy gave a genuine smile and inches to France, who whispered in his ear while undoing his bonds behind his back.

"Hm..." he mused aloud, gazing at Italy with those deep purple eyes, breathing in the nicotine smoke, "... I think I'll end up liking you. You're very cheerful. We need some of that here."

* * *

Author's Comments:

Thank you all so much for faving, reviewing, and following this story so far! It makes my day seeing any comment of any sort in my email... it tells me to keep being motivated for the next few chapters, and I really appreciate it!

Just tell me what you think of it so far, and some predictions for the future~... also, guess which characters speak which quotes at the beginning! I would love to hear your guesses!

Thank you fellow Hetalians~! -From, Sa-ChanCentral


	4. Chapter 4: The Remains of Hope

**Author's Note!**

**Hello, everyone! Just wanted to say a few quick things:**

**First of all, thanks so much for all my favoriters, reviewers, and followers so far in HetaPara. It make my day a lot happier seeing what people have to think about what I write~! So again, thanks, and I really appreciate it!**

**Second, I'll be updating every Monday for now on. (I know it's Tuesday, but I might as well state this notification now) Also, I'll be replying to all reviews in an author's note before the story. Just to show my awesome appreciation~!**

**For example: (This is from the reviews from Chapters 1-3)**

**Chap 1:**

**Nekogirl813: Thank you very much! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! ^^**

**narusasuforever1: LOL CAPS! XD But thank you! I'm glad you're excited!**

**Chap 2:**

**narusasuforever1: I really appreciate it! :) Hope you keep following the story!**

**Chap 3:**

**The Hero15: Holy crap... Thank you! This literally made my day, dear~! I love that you love it! Um, I wouldn't think it would be that clear, but I'm glad you understand that even when the personalities are the opposite, the histories of each of the countries are opposite! And oh please... I love people just rambling on and on, it helps me with the story and writing in general! (And Hasta la Pasta to you, mi amigo) *brofist***

**But anyways, that's it. Stay epic, and hope you like the series so far! **

* * *

Chapter 4: The Remains of Hope

_"It's more than just a physical representation... it's all us. Just our hearts, darkened enough to cause the world to split apart."_

. . .

England breathed in, finally getting a chance to catch himself up. His fingers twitched with anticipation for the upcoming war. But to start a war, there needed to be an invasion...

England hadn't faced any threat like this in fifty or so years. The number of lives that could be lost, the number of nations whose privileges to exist that would be stripped clean, the blood sacrificed to keep the flow of the natural world in calm... it was almost unbearable to think.

England sipped his tea, all alone at his Victorian mansion. He glanced around for any movement or sound, and to his fortune, nothing stirred up too much commotion expect for his kettle whistling in the kitchen. He sat up, dusting off his legs.

He moved quietly to the kitchen, pouring an Earl Grey.

By the time he turned, the kettle dropped to the floor.

. . .

"I swear on Mein Gott, you have the wrong man.. erhm, country! I dunno what you psychos want, but you're not gunna get it from me!"

Prussia struggled with his bonds as Paradox England giggled, skipping as he pulled him into the grand hallway. It was beautifully decorated, the walls plated with vines of gold and the floor made of red swirling marble. Prussia looked around, eyeing the surroundings with suspicion.

"Nice place ya got here..." he muttered under his breath. But England jumped in the air with joy, hearing even the slightest whisper from his captor.

"Oh, lovely, my duckie~! Italy will be glad to hear that! To hear that even though he captured you, you still love his grand palace~! Goodie~!"

Prussia's eyes nearly bulged out of head. "I-Italy's... place... he's the one who got me here?!"

"Oh yes, poppet!"

He breathed. "Then this really is an alternative world. What the hell did I eat last night that caused this dream...?"

England continued to snicker. "Oh, this is no dream, love. If your stomach hurts, want to try another one of my cupcakes~? They taste absolutely scrumptious~!"

"No way in hell," Prussia groaned, cringing, "They taste like fumes. What's in those things anyways..."

"Oh~! Poison! They're color coordinated, love~!"

Oh. That explained it. Prussia tugged on his ropes again, but gave up as soon as the grand doors flung open.

The room around him was blood-red. The odor in the air was a mixture of the sticky red substance on the walls and some strange perfume that made Prussia cough despite himself. On the throne right in dead center was Italy, smirking at his captor coming through the door. On the right and left wings were all the rest of the Great Eight, looking down with either apathy or maddening ecstasy.

England's laugh echoed through the meeting room, throwing Prussia in the middle of the pit and galloping away. "Bait for the fishies~!"

"Shut up, you!" Prussia retaliated, moving this way and that to free himself. Then he noticed two skulls beneath Italy's firm grips. Italy smiled deviously.

"Oh, these. Are these really the first things you feared when you entered the room?" He clutched both with white knuckles. "Let me tell you, fool, that these are special remains of mine. Two kills that I cherish deep to my heart."

"Tell me where that heart is, and I'll give you all of my side of Germany, asshole," Prussia spat, looking down, but still timid of what answer was to come.

Italy sighed. "Pity. You have a foul mouth. I'll have someone personally take care of you. But now, let me explain. These men have betrayed me, made me powerful, and have been terminated by my hand. To the left is the once great Ancient Rome, and to my right is my twin brother... Romano Italy."

The room was silent. Prussia didn't dare to look at the man in front of him, smirking at his reaction.

"No... no... that can't be true... You're lying to me, damnit!"

"This is my world, Prussia. I control myself. No relations before me should try, and both attempted to capture my expansion and calm me down. But nothing can stop me."

Even the Great Eight shuffled in their seats. Prussia swallowed his bravado, and glared right at Italy, a mixture of sadness and fury in his eyes.

"And tell me, you damn tyrant... how many of your citizens have you killed?!"

"Oh, please. They live in royalty. I give my people treatment of kings... the rest who dare to oppose me are immediately executed by me. Simple, traditional work."

Once Prussia realized that Italy was the dominant country in this world, he turned to his soft-spoken brother in front of him. This version of Germany, by what Prussia has noticed, was more timid and concerned with the situation. "Bruder... Bruder... what's happened here?"

Germany, with soft purple eyes, turned to Prussia, begging for an answer. Italy twisted his head, mouthing something. Immediately Germany looked away from his brother.

"How sad..." mocked Russia from the darkness, "... that even his own brother turns on him because of peer pressure."

"Pussy," America bluntly comments from the peanut gallery, grunting in disgust.

"He's no good!" China hissed, rolling his eyes.

Japan, who Prussia knew very well, would usually step out of the situation and remain in the background. Fortunately, it was Prussia's favor, and he stood quiet. But the flashing red in Japan's emotionless eyes sparked a sudden lust for his death.

Prussia shrank back. "Mein gott..."

"But, even though you defy us, we need you," Italy counteracted. Every country faced to Italy with an outraged expression.

Prussia's jaw dropped practically to the ground. "WHAT?! And what the HELL makes you think that I might AGREE?!"

"I have ways," Italy smiled deviously, "Physical torture, mental torture... oh yes, everything set up for you would just be perfect. I was thinking England could take care of you..."

England jumped from his chair, clapping his hands together. "Oh goodie~! Prussia, you're going to love the interrogation room! It's got a bunch of cupcakes, with your name on it~!"

Prussia shook his head repetitively, seeing England's expression. But, for one mere second, he could swear that he saw England's eyes spinning and got caught for a second in his gaze...

He shook off the thought and Italy was already laughing. "Oh, you'll be a great addition. You'll have your title back as a country and can sit next to me as we eliminate everyone in our way... America, tell your former colony to shut up."

America grinned. "My pleasure." He swung his bat with such force that the ground below shattered where hit. Prussia's lip quivered along with England's.

"It's a shame, really," Italy pondered, "France would usually be the one to shut him up... where is he, exactly? America, my friend, do you know?"

America slumped onto his bat, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "The hell do I know..."

The only words that made Prussia grin the entire trial were Italy's...

"SHIT."

. . .

"Mr. France! Mr. France! I wanted to thank you in advance!"

"Shh. We don't need your mouth right now. Come 'ere and follow."

Italy, finally free from his bondage, rounded the outside of the palace with France groaning at Italy's newfound excitement.

"Listen, kid, we need to keep going. It's about time I needed another cigarette, and I'm growing impatient. Keep the pace up. God, with that smile you might as well call yourself England." He shuttered at the thought. Then his purple eyes found the apartment he was looking for. "Ah... home sweet home. But first... look around you, Italy. It's not pretty, but it's worth breathing in. This is home for a while, and if ya wanna help this world out, you have to learn what's out there."

Italy's eyes bounded to the dirty apartment on the fifth floor, but he followed France's instructions. As they snuck from every shadow they could find, Italy's eyes widened in terror as his smile faded from his youthful face.

The people around slumped over, grey and miserable. Dirty, disgusting, and melancholy with the world they were living in. Even the children, who should be celebrating the day, were screaming and crying in the world they were born into. The streets were covered with propaganda posters of all the Great Eight and with this in mind, Italy picked up a poster with his doppleganger's face on it. Cruel, unusual, and pure evil. Italy's fingertips trembled as he read the print:

"You Know Who Rules The Day"

The others sprawled onto the ground all had the same message printed in black ink. The only face that Italy didn't see was Germany's. He sighed in relief, but soaked in the dismal atmosphere around him.

"Now you see," France muttered, lighting the match in the cup of his hand, "that nothing is relative to the world you live in. Do you know what I'd give to just sample happiness? I write beautiful poetry based on what I live in and with... and nothing's worth writing about anymore."

Italy swallowed. "There must be something. I'm happy... but Germany says I'm clueless most of the time. He's never seen me frown, he says. Never. France... I mean, my France, says I'm always optimistic. Because... well, there's always something to look forward to." With this comment, Italy smiled.

France stepped back in surprise, but mellowed and copied his grin. "You're a good kid... but let's keep moving. It's right here."

Italy shuffled his feet, moving his head in every direction to sense if there was any danger. Once the door shut behind him, he saw what could have been the ugliest, smallest little apartment ever seen by a country's eyes.

"Well, make yourself at home. It's not that much, but it's not a jail cell. Get comfy, Italy."

. . .

"England, dude! What's the matter, man?!"

America, the rest of the Great Eight, and Canada made their way to England's Victorian home due to England's abrupt, but urgent phone call.

"Dude, what's... WOAH."

What stood before all nations was one of the infamous black dimensional holes that had appeared to transfer to the opposite world. England nodded.

"Yes, that's it... and why I tried to call you all."

China gaped. "It looks dangerous, aru... what if it send us to another dimension?"

England blinked, uncovering China's question. "Hm... good point. But it's worth the risk."

"And we need to get Italy back," the German choked back, chest puffed out.

America gulped. "Good. Then this is it. Gang, as the hero, I'll go first."

"I agree with America-san," Japan whispered, "He could either get to the world, or we could completely get rid of him."

Russia immediately nodded in response.

France groaned. "Who has the guts but America..."

"Not funny, guys..." America pouted, but once he coughed, he stood in front of the random portal. "If I don't come back... then win for my nation."

One step forward and he was gone from reality.


	5. Chapter 5: The Bittersweet Unknown

Chapter 5: The Bittersweet Unknown

_"I'm willing to save everyone's lives today. Even if means fighting against you, I will save you."_

* * *

. . .

One flash in a moment and America was lifted off the ground and out of reality. When he opened his eyes for what seemed like a second, his eyes widened at the land he saw.

"What the hell..."

The city in the distance was nearing towards the state of demolition. No neon lights, no talking, no noise... just complete grey and silence. As he stood on the hill, America shook his head unconsciously. "Unbelievable... now where the heck are the others?"

America, with hands in his leather coat, walked towards the town. He checked back at the portal, seeing his friend Japan coming out. America smiled. "Hey, Japan! Ya made it!" He waved in excitement. Japan, however, covered America's mouth.

"Shh! America-san, this is not the time to yell." Once he felt America's lips seise movement, Japan sighed and let go. His friend seemed to relax at the action.

"Ohnonon~! We're here!"

France grinned, stepping out of the portal along with a nervous looking German, who trembled behind France. The Frenchman laughed at his behavior. "Why, what happened to you, my friend? I thought you were as tough as your sausage!"

Germany coughed and responded coldly. "This is an important mission, you flaunt. There shouldn't be any unnecessary laughter."

America stiffened, seeing Russia coming out of the portal with the look of murder etched on his face, clearly observing the area for any danger. Then came China, jumping to land on his feet on the grass. The Asian stood in amazement at what he saw.

"Just like in the photograph..."

"Amazingly clear," concluded France, the smile disappearing from his face as soon as he was aware of his surroundings.

Afterwards Canada stumbled out of the portal, then later being smushed on by Romano, who turned around at every possible angle with a look of regular disgust on his face.

"Spain! Get your dumbass out here!"

Spain, in reply, came out of the darkness of the portal and smiled at his friends. "I'm here, I'm here... please be patient for me, Romano, I've tried to teach you so much and you just won't-"

"Let's not get into discussion," interrupted England, who pushed himself to make it out of the twist of both dimensions. He dusted himself and stood with authority. "If we have everyone here, then let's proceed."

"Wait!" Germany panicked suddenly, twisting his head, "Where's Prussia?!"

England pondered quietly. "Well, he didn't come when I called him over. He didn't seem to answer his phone either."

"Well, I called him about what had happened, and he seemed fine," Germany breathed, "But he's disappeared all of a sudden! Do you know how much information he could bring to the table if he got captured?!"

America clutched his jacket in frustration. "If he's been captured just like Italy, or he's wandered off, we'll find him eventually. It's Italy that we know has been captured. And we need to find these 2P people and teach them a thing or two about the meaning of justice and liberty and the pursuit of happiness! No Italian quotes FDR negatively and gets away with it!"

England sighed. "Let's at least plan out our strategy since we've only just arrived. We have a bloody war on our hands, people."

Russia smiled. "Let's split up. I take America and-"

"WOAH woah woah, you Commie. There's no way in hell-"

England grinned. "Fine. We'll split up. Russia, America, China, and Germany are in one group. Me, Japan, and... ugh, I hate to say it... France, are in another group. To finish off, since we're missing two people from our ranks, Spain, Romano, Canada are the last group. Any questions, just use your cell phones to call up anyone for help. Got it?"

"Ohnonon~! You've got it, Angleterre!"

Japan smiled softly to everyone. "Then may we all be given good luck."

Russia copied his expression, turning the other way with his partners. "Agreed."

. . .

Paradox France wouldn't be able to stand for any of this if it weren't for the fact that Italy could save him from all this growing chaos.

As he reached across the table for another cigarette, Italy grinned, eating whatever pasta France had in his pantry. "Uh uh~! Ve, nicotine is bad for you!"

"So?" France spat in annoyance, lighting the butt, "It's something that distracts me from the world I live in. All that smoke clouds my vision and provides me with a fogged perspective of reality. I quite enjoy it."

The young Italian shrunk back, but smiled regardless. "Well I'm just happy you have actual food! How did you get pasta?" He twisted the fork in attempt at perfection to collect all of his spaghetti and slumped it down, satisfied.

France sighed, huffing. "It's contraband. Illegal. Italy, since he's head of everything, doesn't allow pasta in his state; he hates the stuff."

Italy almost choked, pushing on his chest to spit the food out. "WHAT?!"

"Shh, shh!" France hissed, gripping the table, "I bet they already know that I've managed to let you go. Italy's been on my back about loyalty since the 1700's. If he knows I have you, I might end up like... never mind."

"What, what?!"

France looked up from the dim candlelight, his purple orbs focusing on Italy's face. The look of death hung on his expression. "Your brother, Romano... he was just like you. Maybe a little wiser, but still the nicest man I've ever met. He went through a lot, though. Spain ruled him over for a time, but he managed to free himself. What a nation. So proud, so gracious."

Italy couldn't help but gag on his food again. "Really? Fratello? All he's done was sit on his bum and let Spain do all of his work. He's kinda mean to Germany, too-"

"Oh, him and Germany were allied for what seemed like forever. Ever since Romano's death-" France hushed himself, forcing himself down on his seat. The lingering word of death echoed throughout the cramped apartment. The Italian, unsure of how to react, stood like a statue, trembling in his own fear.

"... how..."

France cringed slowly. "He was murdered by your opposite. That's how our Italy took power..."

The younger nation didn't know how to express himself. His heart sank to hopelessness, but his posture was straight, seeming to give the feeling of bravado. "Fratello... how could he do this to you, Fratello..."

"Remember that this is you who killed him," France muttered darkly, "But redemption is a very powerful tool. I would think about it, then get back to me. Emotion makes the room stink even worse than it already does." France, unamused, turned to the blaring television that sponsored more of Paradox Italy's propaganda. France turned to the whimpering nation in apathy.

"Welcome to my world."

. . .

Romano glared at everything. Everything. His former mentor, the lingering, pathetic nation next to him that gripped his teddy bear like a five year old, and the setting around him that smelt like trash and toxins. The impatient footsteps form his expensive loafers sounded throughout the area. Spain, worried, stopped the group. With a nervous smile, he waved his hands to stop the two.

Canada scanned every angle. "I don't like this, guys..."

Spain looked panicked. "It's okay, mis amigos, I just don't want anyone crazy to hear us or try to hurt us. Just keep it down, right Romano?"

"Whatever."

Spain took it as a positive. They kept walking, completely oblivious of who stood, watching them from the obscurity of the shadows.

Then someone caught Romano's sharp eye. A young girl, walking in a slouched fashion, ran to Romano with outstretched arms, dressed in all pink, dragging her doll with her.

"Romano, Mister Romano!"

Spain giggled in pleasured surprise. "Well look at that! Romano, you have a friend!"

Romano, without hesitation, quickly turned around and looked the other way. The girl stopped abruptly, jumping up and down in childish excitement.

"Mister Romano! You're alive!"

"Oh no you don't... get away from me!" cried the Italian, clinging onto the Canadian, who shuttered with no plan about what to do.

Spain rose an eyebrow. "Romano, look at her! She's so cute! You have to be nice to her!"

The girl gave a toothless smile. "Yay! Come on out, everyone! Mister Romano is back, he's alive!"

Immediately after the girl's call, a hundred ragged, grey citizens leapt with joy over the nation that stood in complete shock. The ran to him like he was food for the hungry, a necessary thing that kept the people alive. He was embraced at every angle.

"Mister Romano!"

"I thought he was killed! Thank the heavens!"

"There might be hope at last!"

Romano, unable to take the kindness, exploded with no way to control his tantrum. "WHAT THE HELL?!"

The crowd faded into silence. No body moved.

Spain spoke up, hesitant of the situation. "Romano... I believe that you're a savior around here."


	6. Chapter 6: Deception Behind the Madness

Quick Author's Note:

Hey guys! First off, I just wanted to say thank you for all the reviews, favorites, watches, etc. It actually makes my day and helps me improve on my writing. So if you have indeed commented on the chapters, thank you so much!

Second, I'm going to get back to everyone on their comments because... ya know, it's just nice to get back to your reviewers. :D

Third, again, I'll be updating every Monday and Thursday (around 6 PM or 7 PM)! I believe this series will have about 20-30 something chapters, so there will be a lot of updates and whatnot. Also, I'm planning a Hetalia version of Hamlet, so that'll be coming up soon!

Again, thanks so much for your attention, and I really appreciate the comments! :) Enjoy the story, read, and review!

* * *

Chapter 6: Deception Behind the Madness

_"There's no point in winning everything. We need to make our own sacrifices to save ourselves." _

. . .

The team that consisted of a cautious, yet bloodthirsty German, an egoistic and confident American, a delightful and merciless Russian, and a quick and slightly offended Chinamen snuck through the streets of what they called their personal hell.

America gaped at what he saw throughout the city, and vowed to himself that even if his economy was pretty beaten up that this insanity around him wouldn't pursue. As the land of the free, America shook his head, seeing the suffering souls around him. Russia saw his reaction and for once, pitied him.

"This is once and a while," America's old enemy whispered, "Seeing that the nation whose purpose is the pursuit of happiness to look so solemn."

America stood his ground, backing against the wall. "This is none of my fault, you."

"Quiet," commanded Germany, his sharp blue eyes darting left and right, "There's no need for chatting. It's vital that we see something crucial."

China nodded, evaluating the scene. As the oldest nation among the four, he had seen multiple wars, famines, and revolutions. This is was taking humanity to another level of possible terrors.

Then something caught his glance. Seven men in the light of the streets walked with a man that looked exactly like England. Something was wrong.

"Hey, hey... look, aru." China poked his head out and the rest of the group followed in interest. The people in the middle of the city shocked the nations; America especially.

The men walking robotically with the British nation were dressed in combat clothing in which the American flag was sown onto their sleeves. They seemed dazed, but relaxed as they walked silently with England.

"My men!" America wailed, but the young nation was pulled back by Germany as he cupped his mouth. The nervous tension from the four nations was almost evident in the atmosphere. Once America cried out, England turned.

America curled in horror at this British man. He was utterly different, from the freckles on his face, the devious smile that could scare a ghost straight to heaven, and the mixture of blue and purple in his shifting eyes.

At the turn, no one spoke. Paradox England nodded his head as the American spies stood still in attention.

"Hm. I quite enjoy the smell of fear; it's got a really lovely scent. But I might have had too many cupcakes, hehe~! Maybe my mind has finally gone tipsy-turvy, right my fine gents?" England giggled as the seven spies behind him saluted him in obedience.

They spoke in forced unison. "Yes, sir."

"Then if I'm going insane, help me out, my lovies! If any of you see that cutey-pie Italy or my dreamboat France anywhere, break down the doors for me!"

"Anything for you, sir," they droned.

England straightened his bowtie. "It's quite a shame that minds like yours go to waste. Oh well. Minions help the cause, I guess~! Plus, I know you all give great foot massages!"

America was turning red, but was muffled by a furious Germany. "Shhh, you obnoxious swine! This is not the time!"

Russia sighed, but made fists under his coat. "There's information that is needed to be heard. Italy got away, Germany! At least the news is happy-"

China hissed in the shadows. "But what made America's men betray him? I believe that that's the big question here."

The silence lingered. Paradox England grinned at the grey clouds encircling the sky above.

"Hm~! Well, I say we head out. But from the scenery, something... just doesn't seem right!" Britain caught eyes with an old woman fighting the battle to run away. She cowered, trying to stray from England's grip. The English nation giggled as he grabbed the elder like he was picking apples from a tree. His expression was one of hunger.

"And my sweet, where are you going? Pasta? Pasta?! Well, well, that doesn't seem right, my poppet! You should absolutely know that pasta is illegal here~!"

America snapped right when the old woman in the center of the square screamed in upcoming terror. He broke from Germany, and all chaos followed. China, Russia, and Germany stayed back, gripping the wall in frustration.

America stood above all, a strength that a country of extreme nationality and pride carried alone. The Paradox England stared at the blonde haired, blue eyes nation that was once his colonist. Then he sank in terror, unbalanced as he fell to the ground.

The old woman, shocked by the nature of this America, hobbled away from the scene as fast as she could, grabbing the assortment of pasta and escaping.

"Gah~!" Britain squealed, using hand gestures to express his horror. His eyes widened in desperation. "Have m-mercy, America!"

The young nation stood like an untouchable God. "First my men, then an innocent bystander... there's no justice that exists here-"

Then a blow to America's head sent him into blackness. The three nations stood in shock paralysis as another version of America with darker hair and red glaring eyes twirled his baseball bat.

"Another home-run for the books," he noted nonchalantly, then he looked down at his opposite, who appeared completely unconscious. "What a fucking mess. Goddamnit, I didn't think I'd be a total dumbass."

England rose an eyebrow, smiling deviously, getting himself up. "Nice sneak. I wasn't expecting a huge blow like that... a mean, come on~! The ole' chap is bleeding a little bit! Even though that red water comforts me..."

China nearly threw up. Germany couldn't stand for anymore. Russia held hims back, whispering with a danger behind his playful voice. "Not now. I know we sacrificed a lamb, but at least we'll be lead to the slaughterhouse-"

"America's life is at risk!" Germany growled, but China hushed him.

"Russia's right, aru... as much as I want to save him and receive his debt to me, we have to follow in high pursuit."

Germany breathed like a bull being taunted by a red cloth. "This is not acceptable..." He trembled as his fellow nation was dragged by his own men, betrayers of their own country. Paradox America and England walked off in success.

"Say now, America," England slurred under his breath, "Why just him? He's adorable and all, but you knew before I did that there were other playthings hiding!"

America stared ahead in apathy to anyone's situation, despite the fact he had gained another vital prisoner, another pawn to the chess set. "Well, here it goes. Once you've done your little interrogation mind control thing you do with those crazy eyes, you have power over a major country. And don't forget that little asshole Prussia. When I took the liberty of bringing him back to his cell, he tried to bite my hand. That dick. But since you'll take control of 'em, you'll have two advantages. They'll be on our side, and no other fucking nation that strikes against us will know."

England clapped. "Brilliant, brilliant~!"

The two walked towards the capital with some swagger from their newest capture. Little did they know that even though they knew about the China's, Russia's, and Germany's presence, they didn't hear them follow them and head about their plan.

Germany cringed, barely able to resist the urge to take out his fist and punch the stars out of both Paradox nations. "I'll kill them both," he stated.

Russia nodded. "I'll join in that, Mr. Germany."

China couldn't help but agree. "Wait... but we need to tell everyone else about this! This information is crucial, aru!"

"You're right about that."

A voice from behind the three nations terrified the nations. Germany pulled out a gun, but couldn't press the trigger on himself. Paradox Germany squirmed, but restrained his demeanor.

"P-please. You can trust me."

. . .

Paradox France slumped on his dusty couch, resisting the urge to watch his guest sleep so soundly.

Earlier in the evening, he had given his thanks and praise to an old woman who brought him pasta for Italy's sake. France hadn't said who the pasta was for, but kindly thanked her and gave the elder a food ration for her and her entire family.

The Frenchman sighed in the tobacco smoke, leaning on his arm. Comparing the bloodthirsty dictator that was Northern Italy to this weakened, cowardly, kind-hearted nation was almost impossible. France watched the rhythmic pattern of Italy's soft breathing, rising and falling, covered with all of the sheets France had with him at the time.

Then something struck France's heart. Italy's expression was happy. He smiled as he slept, dreaming of the slim possibility of seeing Germany again.

The French nation shook his head incessantly. "Unbelievable," he murmured to himself.


	7. Chapter 7: Hallelujah

Chapter 7: Hallelujah

_"When I see someone in danger, I don't sit there and do shit. Charge in. Because you can't be awesome if you don't save your own soldiers."_

. . .

After his encounter with the mass of citizens in front of him, Romano was dragged into a frenzy along with Spain and Canada. The echoes of the people were of hallelujah, celebration, and amazement at the personified nation they saw. Many of the smiles and sounds of laughter the three nations heard were not seen in this land for a long time. Even the children circling in joy around their savior had not been this energetic since they had last saw Paradox Romano.

Although it bothered Romano that this was indeed distracting him from finding his idiotic little brother, he quite enjoyed the role of king. Once the people had stopped migrating, the whole world seemed so small to Romano, Spain, and Canada.

The underground city they were transported to was covered in pieces of used technology, stank with the smells of the sewers, and the lights that hung over every home dimly lit. The town, waiting for a savior, cheered incessantly when Romano's face was in the clear for everyone to see. Thousands of citizens anted to run and touch their reborn nation.

Some, however, saw Spain and Canada and hesitated to come over to see who Romano's companions were.

"Is that really... Canada?" a young man questioned, hesitating to come up.

Canada smiled softly, pulling back. "They notice me!"

Some children, seeing Canada as a threat, ran away to Romano for protection. Canada stiffined and frowned, looking at the ground in desperation for attention. Besides Canada, Spain was being avoided at all angles as well. The center of gravity seemed to be towards the Italian nation.

The pressure from the people had put Romano at an exploding point in terms of his temper.

"HEY! ALL OF YOU! WHY ARE YOU ALL OBSESSED WITH ME?!"

The citizens froze in place. One little boy stood amongst the rest of the outspoken people, arms out.

"Because we thought you were dead, Mr. Romano... and you're alive!"

Romano sighed, seeing the boy's beaming smile of hope. "Then let me ask you all this... what happened here?!"

As the boy stood in frozen feet, his father came to pick him up in concern, but addressed Romano. "You and your brother, that bastard Italy... ruled over these lands for a long time. We've been in poverty for centuries and saved all the treasures for your pleasures. But as time passed by from generation to generation, you started to feel some sort of remorse. Then you helped protect us."

Another citizen spoke from the crowd. "Then a few years ago, the world was splitting apart from differences among the nations. France was starting to rebel against America and England. China and Russia were fighting like violent children, throwing away innocent lives left and right. Germany, Japan, and Italy allied and broke up time in and time out, and Prussia persuaded his younger brother to go against the chaos. Even these other nations that seem to stand next to you, they're considered a huge threat; the meanest nations known to man. And Romano, close to our hearts, challenged Italy to a battle that scarred everyone forever..."

Romano's amber eyes seemed to widen from every word. Spain clenched his fists and Canada whimpered.

Another spoke out, this time, a young woman. "You were amazing, Mr. Romano! You had Italy by his throat! He was almost destroyed! Then...t-then you thought he could change if you let him go, a-and he cocked the gun when you trusted him..."

Romano could even hear the gunshot. It racked his brain from every side.

Spain turned to his apprentice. "Romano... mi amigo... are you-"

"No. I'm not fucking crying, bastardo..." the Italian wiped his eyes, breathing in fresh air, glaring at all the people that had looked up to him so highly.

The whites of his knuckles appeared and the shadow on his face concealed his thirst for vengeance, for the sake of all these people and the innocent lives wasted.

"This would be the time I'd get out a white flag and call it quits," he spoke softly, addressing the citizens, "But a nation torn like this needs some sort of patchwork. Spain..." he called to his friend, who waited patiently for this day to happen all his life.

Spain grinned. "You're learning and growing, mi amigo."

Romano nodded. "Canada, get your syrupy ass up here."

Canada, pleasantly surprised, straggled his way to the front, puffing his chest out.

The Italian continued. "These nations are as good as I am to all of you. The nicest out of all of our world, and probably of yours as well. Treat them like you treat me."

The crowd cheered, and Romano raised his fists high in the air.

"This will not be the day to run! For the Italian pride, not for the sake of living like cowards anymore! Those bastards wanna mess with us, shove it in their faces!"

The uproar of a thousand people shook the town.

"As Romano Italy, I will win for my people and for the benefit of this hell-bound society!"

Romano screamed, piercing his voice into the air, and the people below cheered for their freedom. Romano turned around, happy to keep the crowd riled. He went up to Spain, breathing heavily, with a grin planted on his face. He tapped his shoulder, and Spain looked up with pride shining in his eyes.

"Let's kick some ass, you bastard."

Then he proceeded to march into the distance with his supporters behind him.

. . .

Paradox England giggled, quietly sitting down, compulsively moving his cupcakes to the front of his desk.

The interrogation room was where everyone's minds melted in his hands. He'd been at this game for centuries, and he finally waited for this day to come to him on a silver platter. England grinned, eyeing the room from left to right, then right to left in childish pleasure. All the instruments were there: the torture chamber, the laboratory, the kitchen... all of his desires were in every spot. But England thought he could take the liberty of having some changes in hearts today. Forced changes, but to his benefit and to the Great Eight's.

He sighed, playing with his sparkly name tag until one of this guards, once one of America's guards, came in.

"We have them both here, sir," he exclaimed monotonously.

The corners of England's face lifted into a sneer. "Good, then~! Tell them to come in, we have treats and treats galore!"

And just as he wanted, England had his prisoners on his feet. The two nations that had been captured, America and Prussia, were wiggling to be set free, both bound by England's new men. America spat on the ground, covered in bruises while Prussia cussed in German.

"I hope you're happy, you crazy mother f***er!" Prussia yelled, raising an eyebrow in defiance.

England giggled, covering his mouth in petite embarrassment. "Oh~! What a bratty little German boy! And poor, poor Mr. America, right in front of me..."

America grumbled. "You're not getting away with this... not when the country of America is here-"

"Oh, you Americans and your silly talk~! Nothing but diabetes and obnoxious behavior, poo-poo you! But we'll have you listening to me no doubt, or at least soon enough. Have a seat, lovies~!"

And at once, a furious America and Prussia were placed into the chairs across from England's. The British nation looked at the two between folded hands.

"So I've heard that you've been naughty boys, so I have a treat for you! Would either one of you want a cupcake~?"

England offered the tray of assorted pastry desserts, but both turned away.

"None of that! Bullcrap; that's what those tasted like!"

Paradox England took offense immediately, turning a shade of red, covering his freckles. "Ugh~! Don't tell me that! They're lovely, actually!"

"Come'on man!" America scowled, "They've got more acid than we have in MY cupcakes! That's saying something!"

"None of this poppycock!" England screamed, nearly flipping a table. But regardless of his mini-temper tantrum, he relaxed and ate a purple cupcake, his eyelids fluttering from the effects of his cooking. Both America and Prussia looked at each other in a mix of confusion and horror.

"Dude, we gotta get outa here! We're full grown countries, not wimpy soldiers!" America whispered, figuring that he could talk with England distracted in his personal relaxant.

"I know, I know," agreed Prussia, thoroughly annoyed by this version of England, "But this isn't good. I have a lot of awesome information, and I know you do too. Just keep your mouth shut; these other countries want my awesomeness for something evil. I just don't know what yet..."

England cleared his throat, done with this consumer ecstasy. "Now, now... what to do with America..."

Then something came in like a dash of lightning. A yellow form had struck Paradox Britain right on his face, pecking him until he panicked and hopped around the room.

Prussia smiled. "Gilbird! Where the hell have you been!"

"Men, men!"

England made the round-up call. Prussia inched towards America, panicking, trying to undo his bonds with his freed hands. "Come on you... get goin'!"

The young nation froze. "Wait... what?! Prussia, you've got to be kidding-"

"No, no I'm not. It'll be too close to call if both of us go. You're more valuable than me at this point, so get the hell out of here, mein gott!" The ropes broke on America's hands, and as he undid his feet, America could hear his own guards surrounding the premises. The American sprinted, but never looked back. The emotions that pounded in his beating heart pushed him to see England's minion army to encircle the tent, but America, with salty tears, ran to land's end.

England got up, holding Gilbird in his hands, strangling the bird. He struggled, throwing the bird into a box right next to his desk. He scratched the desk, looking insanely at Prussia, his eyes spinning in crazy revenge.

Prussia grinned in self-victory. "My awesomeness won the day again."

"And those will be the last words you'll say in free will, little duckie~!" England proclaimed, and with no hesitation, Prussia locked eyes with the enemy, expecting his future self to carry on England's commands through mental force. He fell into the drowsiness, then into trance, then stared blankly at a smiling England.

. . .

America kept running in a straight line, across the city and country.

He kept seeing Prussia's grinning face, and heard his assuring words about freedom.

Freedom...

America's eyes cascaded in tears. He ran, while his newly discovered friend sacrificed himself.

Where was the freedom in that? Carrying such a big burden on your back, running around like a decapitated chicken while a brave man like Prussia stayed to have his brain melted by this jackass...?

Then he stopped in his tracks, looking down at the concrete ground, then looking up at the paradox world around him.

"So this really is the opposite world," he muttered.

. . .


	8. Chapter 8: A Terrible Error

_Author's Note:_

_Hey guys! Just a lil' reminder that I'm posting chapters every Monday and Thursday, and I'll let you know when I'm going to be absent, or just not present to update._

_Take care, loves~!_

_-SaChanCentral_

_P.S. Also, for the readers who have red up to this point, first of all, thanks and congrads! But also, as you probably noticed, I keep putting quotations up from every character in the series so far. First one to guess all of them (Chaps. 1-8) will receive a free request story from me! Thanks for the attention!_

* * *

Chapter 8: A Terrible Error

_"If you think we're mad... then wonder how we feel about you. Filthy, filthy, opposites."_

The flames in front of England crackled. His heavy green eyes rested upon the campfire, and he stirred himself awake for the twelfth time that night.

He leaned his head on his palm in exhaustion.

"England-san, you look so solemn..."

The British nation turned to see his friend Japan coming out from the tent beside him. He smiled halfheartedly and nodded appropriately.

Japan sat beside him, looking to and from England and the flickering fire. "France is still in bed, snoring soundly."

"Hm. That would be like him."

Japan frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "I sense the mood in your voice... is everything alright?"

The British man hesitated, but answered honestly. "We've been on the same bloody trail all these past couple of days, and nothing's come out of it. No opposite countries trying to attack, no witnesses, no events. Just trailing our way to disaster. Yes, that's more like it."

Japan kept himself quiet. It was better not to talk to the stressed nation, but rather let the peacefulness of the night calm him down. He turned despite himself, but England sighed, looking at the lifeless sky. Everything was fog since everyone got here.

"And... goodness, there's something that's been tugging on my mind. It's got something to do with America. I'm always concerned for him, you know, even though most of the time it's due to pure stupidity..." he chuckled in between thoughts, "... but it seems like he's in trouble. I'm worried."

Japan smiled softly. "You're just concerned. I am too. Italy-kun is my friend, and I want nothing more than to see him come back. I'm also worried for Germany-san. For all of you."

"And those horrid Paradox nations that threaten us... it brings me back to World Wars. This, however, can just obliterate us. We'll tear ourselves apart, if that's the right way of saying it."

"Sometimes I ask where the sanity is with all of us. When we started these wars long ago... was it us, or them coming out of us?"

England locked eyes with the Asian, bewildered about the sudden theory. Then he looked down. "I bet my opposite is bloody crazy then."

Japan never was the type to express his emotions openly, but the sudden comment from his friend made him grin. He looked at the open ground in embarrassment, trying to pull himself together. Then he frowned.

"Then I must be a true monster."

England twisted his neck suddenly in reaction, horrified by Japan and his assumption. But the British man only sat there, breathing the night atmosphere and staring at the sparks traveling from the fire to only disappear into the darkness.

Then out of the corner of his eye, a man approached, limping, dragging himself to shame.

"America... oh bloody hell, America...!"

The young nation struggled to move when his friends gathered around him. He collapsed with satisfaction of making it so far.

"Britain, Japan... help a hero out..." then he fainted on the ground, his legs going limp.

England's eyes bulged out while Japan seized to move out of panic. "Damn it! Come on, let's move him in!"

As the two nations dragged America in, France awoke, hearing the screaming occurring from outside.

"You two, I'm trying to get some beauty slee-... AMERICA! Where the hell did you find him?"

England retorted in extreme impatience. "Frog! This is no time! Come on, let's get him down."

They gathered into the tent outside the fire, laying the unconscious nation on his back. He seemed to be at peace. The black circles under his eyes certainly gave his friends the intention that he had gotten no rest. He was covered head to toe in bruises and scratches, obviously attacked by some unknown force. England removed his glasses, sighing unevenly, cringing, holding back his emotion.

Japan glanced over to England. Tears gathered in his emerald orbs, but didn't cascade down his face. As soon as England grasped onto America, holding him tightly, Japan saw the reflection of a wet tears pouring down the British nation's cheekbones.

"What was done... to make even England collapse?" Japan muttered, but he made sure than no one heard him.

. . .

Germany was the first of the nations to face himself.

From the perspective of Germany, he saw himself as a guaranteed coward, but strong enough to pull himself through with plenty of second chances. His purple eyes held a light compassion, something that he himself would never really express in a physical aspect. The scar right on his face looked like it was painful to bear everyday. But overall, he saw himself.

From the perspective of paradox Germany, the man in front of him looked strong and held self-confidence. The harshness and judgement on his face frightened Paradox Germany, but he seemed calm in his demeanor. The cross he bore on his chest was something of great importance to him it seemed, but Paradox Germany knew nothing about defending honor. He just wanted a chance to find a connection. But overall, he saw himself.

Germany, Russia, and China followed the opposite Germany intently, still keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. They had no idea anymore who to trust, and who could be a threat to their survival and freedom. But still, in those purple eyes, they all knew he could be trusted.

They settled down in a cabin on the outskirts. Paradox Germany opened the door in shame, embarrassed about the conditions of his home, but humbly gave the three countries a temporary refuge. Food was set on the table, and a fire roared to provide warmth.

The German men examined each other across the dinner table, glancing at appearances, expressions, and emotions. The table was quietly intense, and Russia and China dared not to say a word after Paradox Germany promised them shelter.

The lingering silence made everything too awkward. The German man stood up, piercing the man across from him with his intense blue eyes.

"Thank you for the food," he spoke loudly, but awkwardly. His oppoiste stood up as well, attempting to excuse himself. But as soon as a foot was turned, a knife cut through the table like butter at Germany's hand.

"I have questions for you." A simple command had Paradox Germany at a standstill.

Again, the quiet consumed the room.

"I-I... I have-"

"Speak up." The German barked, almost to the point of flipping the table over.

His opposite quivered silently.

China spoke. "Germany, stop it! He's not a soldier! Just let him explain!"

Russia, in his defense, smiled while eating his meal. Germany glanced to China, who held a fork in his hand, waving it back and forth violently. He sat down as well as his paradox.

"Then tell me," Germany mused, calmed down, "... why is this going on?"

Heads turned from left to right. The Paradox Germany stared in the open air, but sighed to himself, directing his purple eyes to his opposite.

"I-It's hard to explain, but... this war is Italy's fault. Our Italy. As the oldest and most manipulative country, he wanted everything in his power. Whoever agreed allied with him and made profit. I was more or less forced into it by him. That's why the G8 was formed. He killed his grandfather, Rome and killed his twin brother Romano right after. Romano... he was my best friend..." Paradox Germany held back tears, "... he was the only one that could stop him. But once his death was announced, chaos pursued. Allied countries built armies bigger than the nation itself. The nationalism and propaganda rate was too overwhelming, which I why I didn't participate in rallying my people into some of those brainwashing techniques. Where was the freedom in any of this? I've been wondering that for sometime now. Then Italy unleashed his master plan: to dominate all of your countries. the power of his world in his hands clearly wasn't enough. That's how this war started... Italy and the allies knew that you wouldn't give up without a fight. He took Italy and Prussia and-"

The German rose in fury. "HE TOOK MEIN BRUDER?!"

Russia sighed and smiled in sympathy. "Calm down, Germany, comrade... we'll get him soon enough-"

"But first Italy, and now mein bruder?! This should have been told to me a longer time ago!" The German stormed away, grabbing his coat and marching out the door.

China rose an eyebrow. "You'd think that he'd leave with some sort of clue how to get there..."

Russia bowed slightly to the Paradox German, who flinched in response. "Thank you for the meal, da! But if you help us contain our Germany, I'd adore that very much."

Paradox Germany swallowed his bravado. He ran after the three nations, locking the door behind him.

This was a terrible mistake.


	9. Chapter 9: A Deal in Detest

Chapter 9: A Deal in Detest

_"When you face your fears, don't run right towards it. Wait until you yourself are unaware; that's when fate makes its decision on your life."_

. . .

The German man sprinted in full force. The horrible visions of Italy and Prussia suffering rung clear as a bell in his mind, and he shook himself to keep going. He ignored Russia's and China's constant callings and trudged along.

Suddenly, a blow to his stomach made him crash.

His opposite's fist impacted him right into his vulnerable stomach, making him crumble. He looked up to himself, furious, but unable to stand.

"From what I would think..." Germany gasped for breath, "...you wouldn't be able to make me fall, never mind trying to defend yourself."

China and Russia caught up, leaning downwards in exhaustion. China saw what had happened and his eyes widened in angry surprise. "Germany! It's not safe to have you running out here in the open, aru! What are you doing?!"

Russia calmly smiled. "Don't be so fast on your feet, my comrade. It's not healthy for your body to have more instinct than your brain-"

"Shut up!" Germany screamed, struggling to get up, "Mein Gott, what a blow..."

Paradox Germany stared at the ground, pensive.

"I-I have an idea," he blurted unexpectedly.

The three nations turned their heads in surprise.

Russia smiled gently. "What is it, then?"

The Paradox nation held his voice, but pushed himself enough to speak further. This was the perfect plan. "Me and France are the only ones who have mentally turned on Italy and the rest of the nations. France... he's always been a rebel. They usually rope him in at the last second when he thinks he's won, but he never changes. It's a constant cycle with him. But Italy thinks that I'm too scared to go against him. Same with mein bruder, Prussia... he's probably more cowardly than me. But we both want him to go down..."

Silence filled the atmosphere.

"... and that's why we should switch places."

Germany tried to compute what his opposite proposed. "...what?"

"We should switch clothes and you can act as me. Find out what's going on yourself."

The corners of Germany's mouth stretched upwards. He could find out about Italy, Prussia, and possibly give Italy's opposite the justice that he needs. Then a thought came over him like a dark cloud.

"Well... I like the plan. A lot. But if I get my cover blown, or I just want to update you all, how can I do that? There's no cell phone service or telephone service anywhere here."

The Paradox nodded. "W-well, there's a connection that exists in between us."

The suspicions of Germany, Russia, and China rose from those words.

China tilted his head in confusion. "What is that, aru?"

The Paradox grunted, sighing. "Each country and his or her opposite share their emotions. Like, for example, I felt your pain when you talked about your Italy and Prussia. And I bet you felt something pang in your heart when I discussed my best friend Romano being... dead. That's how it goes. And if you address me in your thoughts, then I'll be able to hear, and I can do the same a well."

Russia giggled. "This is a strange world we live in. To have our counterparts know our every move just by how we feel about the situation... how terrifying."

Germany flared his nostrils, breathing the cold air, reviving his thoughts. "Alright. I believe you. Let's get changed so that I feel that I can go in without anyone noticing me at first sight." He was lifted up by Russia and walked away to the house, impatient for the plan to carry out.

China glanced at Paradox Germany, sighing.

"You think this might work? He doesn't have the scar on your face, or your purple eyes. Of if no one notices that, then he'll blow a fuse if something happens to Prussia or Italy..."

Germany blinked, considering the worse case scenario. "I'll stitch his face, if he doesn't mind that. It won't hurt too much. With the eyes, however, he can wear my hat. The shadow that comes from it will dull the color. With me, however, the scar is permanent, so I can't do anything about it. Same with my eyes. I'll just have to gut it out if I want to act like him a well."

China nodded. "Well, I believe that this might work. Right, Russia, aru?"

Russia shrugged. "Maybe... I'm just concerned about how he'll carry out your personality, Comrade... Germany?"

The Paradox nation took off his cap, walking to his house in solemnness. "Call me 2PGermany. It'll be easier that way."

Russia and China looked at 2PGermany, then at each other. With mixed emotions, they cautiously walked back to the house.

. . .

The American woke up in a panic, clutching his chest in shock. It was dizzying to stand straight up from his resting position, but the feeling of nausea quickly took over and America laid down again, stuttering while trying to catch his breath. Then the flashes of hunger, desperation, and sadness appeared in his mind and gulped, unable to breathe.

England, standing right by his former colony, held in head upright. France, at the other side of the tent, rose in concern, seeing that his friend was wide awake. Japan sighed heavily, satisfied to know about America's condition. They all gathered around, anxious. It had been about ten hours since America stumbled and fell unconscious on the spot, and it seemed like America had gotten some vital information.

England felt like he had sweat buckets to wait for this moment. Then the American turned to Britain, feeling almost delirious.

"Dude... what time is it... or what day is it?"

The Englishman stiffened. "It's four in the afternoon on Sunday... so we've been here for three days."

"Ah."

England smiled, copying America's expression. France swallowed.

"My friend... do you happen to have any information...?"

The American twisted his neck to France. "Too much so, dude... sit me up straight, Britain, I'm not as old as you."

Japan chuckled as England grudgingly pushed America to the right position. Then the young man looked from each country and back down to his sheets. He gripped then so tightly he looked as though he was strangling someone.

"I'll tell you everything then. It'll be harsh, but friggin' important."

The nations shuffled down to the floor, impatient.

America coughed, but managed to make his words. "So me, Russia, Germany, and China were trying to hide out, when I see my men. My men! They were with a version of you, Britain! Except he was too pink and creepy, and he spoke like he was a doll and had a knife and cupcakes with him! But anyways, he had my men, and they seemed a little out of sorts, but were on his side. Then he started picking on an old grandma, because apparently pasta is illegal here! Once a grandma is getting bullied, a hero has to step in-"

England placed his hands on his face. "America, you bloody waker..."

"I'm not done. Then... then! Oh, it was awful. After I was about to give you... I mean, that England person a run for his money, I got knocked out by a baseball bat! I woke up bring ragged by my own men, and Prussia was there with me! We got strapped down into these seats and your opposite was our torture interrogator! Right when we almost lost all hope, Prussia's little pet bird came in and distracted England number two while Prussia could only undo my ropes. He was left there, and he told me to run, so I did! I got away, but I felt really bad about leaving him there... but I haven't eaten in days and-"

America was interrupted by a surprised Japan. "You... you escaped? And do you know what happened to Prussia-san?"

America shrugged, unhappy. "I dunno... the guy's eyes started swirling, and there were traps and stuff everywhere..."

England stood straight up. "Then... my opposite is a psycho?!"

his former colony nodded. "He creeped me out. But it seemed like he had some really yummy cupcakes that were almost acidy artificial!"

France snickered. "I'm tarting to like this you, Britain..."

"No, no, no!" England gasped, furious, "This is not the area of focus! All we know is that Prussia is with... ehm... me. We still don't know where Italy is?"

Everyone shook their heads solemnly. France, however, cringed. He held his head, suddenly shaking with uneven breathing. His eyes became glassy, but wide with fright.

America spot up from England's hands, and Japan rushed to the scene, right to a trembling France. "France-san! I-"

"Little Japan, I am fine... just... my feelings of missing Italy just grew ten fold, and I can see through someone's eyes... it's gross in that house, disgusting, and there's a lot of smoke everywhere... a burning building, maybe?!"

Everyone grew silent around France. He continued, gasping.

"T-there's Italy. Sweet, little Italy, sleeping like a baby... but I feel like two hearts are beating in my chest..."

He swallowed his fears, and calmed down, his blue eyes clearer now. "Mon cherie..."

Japan smiled softly. "That's good, then... Italy-kun is alive."

England shook his head. "I just can't shake this feeling out of me, though..."

Then in one moment, the whole world broke loose from outside the tent. The clicking of automatic rifles and the marching of soldiers' feet on the ground stood the nations' on end, so shocked in that moment. Then the tent door opened. The man who entered wore a look on his face that was pure stone, so serious that the frown could not be moved by any emotional means. The look in his deep red eyes shifted from America to France, from England to Japan, then downwards, looking at all four nations with the sense of an unemotional victory. He cracked his open neck, breathing in the sick atmosphere, silently enjoying the moment.

"To see you all here, weaker than any nation I've ever seen make this mission sound foolish. Before I officially capture you and show no mercy, I will introduce myself. I am Russia, ruler of the North."


	10. Chapter 10: What Fate Determines

Chapter 10: What Fate Determines

_"He's powerful. He can try to stop the world if he wants to. Destroy it, even. But I know you too well. He'll never be able to destroy or even stop you."_

_. . ._

Italy twitched in his sleep, tossing and turning on France's century year old couch. The air under the blankets was so shallow that sweat poured from Italy's forehead and his curl twisted around even more than ever. He cringed under the covers, deep in his sleep... deep in his vivid, more than life dream.

He ran without really running. It was natural to him, after all. Screaming, but not making a sound. Who would be there in his dreams, in real life, to aid him in this unknown danger?

_. . ._

_Italy couldn't stop hyperventilating. The force behind him was too strong to fight back. Even if he gave himself up, there was no stopping this powerful invasion. He felt this crushing force that lay in the pit of his stomach, churning his fears and nerves. He swallowed his bravado. He had nothing to yell, nothing to warn anyone about... he was all alone, no one on his side. _

_For the first time, he saw death ahead. _

_"Look at him run! A coward!"_

_"A lamb to the slaughter!"_

_"Catch him in the corner!"_

_Those words were too true, but regardless, Italy believed every single word they said as he raced to Kingdom Come. _

_Then a mass jumped on him, holding him down as the breath he once had left his lungs almost as fast as a gunshot. The young Italian lifted his head up, but was impacted right in his heart, the mortal wound holding him to the ground. The man above grinned. He snickered in triumphed. Italy couldn't see his killer, but choked his words. _

_"Why... w-why?"_

_"Because of what you've done. You bastard!"_

_Every word stabbed him more deeply than the weapon. As his mind faded and his heart gave in, he thought of everyone, then the crowd began to disappear, leaving him with his brother and his best friend, his commander... the man he admired more than anyone. _

_Romano grumbled playfully. "Come on, bastardo. You're time's come."_

_Germany embraced him after what seemed like an eternity. "You were always strong in my eyes, Italy. Even though the hard times, I'm still proud of you."_

_Heaven always seemed far away to Italy, but he smiled, reaching his own peace. The road upwards may be rocky, but he was guided by the two people that seemed to matter to him over anything else. _

_Together, they held hands to make their way to death. Choking back tears, Italy gladly followed his fellow nations._

_In reality, the murderer stood up, not even blinking at the body in front of him. _

_The murderer was Italy himself. _

. . .

Italy gasped painfully for atmosphere, his eyes bolting open. He gasped, placing his head on his lap, attempting to relax himself from these dreams. They kept reappearing every single night he slept at France's, and he couldn't shake these feelings off.

2PFrance, who entered rubbing his eyes, growled silently. "What could it be now?"

Italy quivered. "Nothing, nothing! Ve... just a bad dream-"

"Alright, alright," France grumbled, rolling his blood shot eyes, "Just... stop screaming when you're asleep. It's not for the occasion, okay? I've got sleeping pills if you wanna calm down a bit, but please..." he held the silence for a serious, annoyed effect, "... be quiet. I'm kinda dealing with a hangover, and you need to sleep, 'kay, kid?"

Italy quietly nodded, like his was programmed to. He noticed that he always nodded excessively at every command someone gave him. Even if it was a light request, he took it to an extreme.

France blinked once, and left, the door creaking slightly.

The nation, without hesitation, closed his eyes, expecting better thoughts for the future.

. . .

2PItaly gasped painfully for atmosphere, his eyes bolting open. He gripped the pillow he slept in. It had been a few uneasy nights sleeping in his grand suite, with having these dreams of getting killed over and over, but he had the conscious to realize that his empire wasn't ever going to fall apart.

But regardless, he couldn't hake these feelings off.

2PJapan, walking casually from the hall, heard his ally's screams and bolted in his room, somewhat disturbed that this particular nation was having realistic nightmares.

"What the hell...?"

Italy jerked from his bed, coughing. "What?" he demanded bitterly.

Japan stood, slicing Italy's self-esteem with his sharp red eyes. "You were screaming... this is unnecessary, particularly unlike you-"

"It was nothing, you bastardo, nothing!" The Italian laughed gruffly, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Japan had no other words to say.

"Say whomever is hurting you, and I'll have no hesitation in killing the said person," he briefly added, no hint of mercy in his voice.

Italy nodded, and Japan left, the door creaking slightly.

The nation, without hesitation, closed his eyes, expecting better thoughts for the future.

. . .

"D-do... I look like you enough?"

"You tell me, dumkof."

The Germany's had exchanged clothed, did everything in their physical power to portray each other, and turned in every angle, making sure they got everything straightened out.

They both nodded in response, both happy.

Russia smiled. "This is perfect. Besides the eyes and your scar, Comrade 2P, you look exactly like him."

Germany gritted his teeth, heading towards the door. "Isn't that the point? Anyways, we need to make our way out. I need to find out where my bruder and Italy is!"

China stomped his foot in impatience. "Aru! Hold up! We need to confirm things first! Also, we're following you so we can track down the building where everything is!"

Russia shrugged. China had explained it all.

Germany narrowed his eyes, shadowed over from his opposite's brimmed hat. "I know, I know. Before I go, China, Russia... 2PMe... I just want to say that if I don't make it out alive, or they find me out and something happens... that you should hide. Run away."

Russia stiffened. "It's funny, almost ironic... you tell the same thing to young Italy all the time. How about this time... we back you up, da?"

The German man took a second to take in the Russian's words, then looked at him in surprise. Russia simply stood in his own self-victory.

Germany sighed. "I'm sorry if I feel impatient, and I trust in you all. T-thank you all for backing me up." He smiled automatically, and his opposite shyly grinned back, hoping that this would work out for the better.

The German's expression went rock hard, then twisted the door nob, pausing for a mere second. "Stay with me... all of you. 2PGermany... stay with me on this. You're the only one who can hear me and see what I see. Just help me in case I lose it."

Then Germany walked out of the door, then sprinted into the open, fixing the brim of his hat.

. . .

It had been a few hours, and Germany could finally see the city now. The only building in the center of town was also the only building to have lights and commotion inside of it. The corners of his mouth stretched upwards. Good.

He steadily walked in a soldier-like stance, nodding nonchalantly at the citizens who trembled in response. A child cried at the sight, and his parents took him in with fear in their eyes. Then there was the nation in front of him in the center of the stranded intersection, raising an eyebrow.

Germany couldn't breathe at the man facing him. It was Japan... with a suit of black and red eyes that immediately stabbed him in a frozen position. 2PJapan walked towards his comrade, shaking his head, but paused in silence.

"Why are you standing up so straight?"

"H-Hm?" Germany knew he certainly got the stuttering down. If he raised his voice any higher than he just did Japan would have caught on to the act.

Japan continued to shake his head, but his voice remained level. "Never mind. Come on. We've been looking for you and we have a meeting. And it's with your brother."

"M-my brother?"

"Of course."

Japan seemed too calm for his own good. Germany's hidden eyes darted towards the sword that his comrade wielded right in front of him, Japan touching the blade with curiosity. He continued, vaguely amused at Germany's behavior. "...oh, come on. Not your brother Prussia... he's been... let's just say: 'on the rocks' lately. This one is from the other world. Yes. Italy captured him and England did his thing, so now he's ours to manipulate."

Germany's mind went into a blur as soon as his brother's name was mentioned throughout the entire conversation. "Manipulate...?"  
Japan's fingers twisted on the handle. Germany, if had the chance, would be sweating bullets or pulling a gun out to protect himself. "You have to know your enemy, Germany. It's very important. I know you are not into war or fighting, but be may it be... you have to know who you're dealing with. But never mind. Let's get to the meeting."

As the two men proceeded, Germany couldn't stop envisioning a suffering Prussia on the center of the meeting floor. What would Italy and his allies want with his bruder? He was an ex-country, at the most, and was nothing but a bother.

But his military tactics were far better than anyone he had known...

And knew everything about everyone that he faced in battle, strengths and weaknesses...

Shivering in his own tension, Germany entered the tall building with Japan, unable to stop shaking.

Japan rose an eyebrow. "Got a fever?"

"N-Nein."

No one had talked until the grand double doors had opened. There stood everyone he had been meaning to see. The Allies, the Axis, in all of it's evil. Italy smiled deviously while Germany came in. The nation almost growled, but kept to his character.

"Ah, Germany. You came in without calling it quits, I see?"

Saying nothing but muttering nonsense, Germany made his way up to his seat. To his right was America, picking at his baseball bat, covered head to toe in rusty nails. To his left...-

"Bruder!" Germany hissed, but the albino nation didn't hear.

No did he seem that willing to break free as he thought. Germany, in a trembling sweat, peered to see his older brother, captured and unusual. Prussia seemed to have a dazed, rather bored expression in his face, his red eyes holding no incentive of resistance, but a dull, emotionless darkness. Germany couldn't help himself but swallow his fear.

"Bruder... what happened to you, bruder..."

Then a voice broke inside his head, causing a rather shocked Germany to listen in surprise.

_"D-Don't say anything..."_ his opposite's voice whimpered. Germany rolled his eyes.

_"And why not?!" _He thought back, screaming his panic.

_"Because if you even talk to him, someone's going to notice. L-Look, Germany, he's in a trance. A really deep one, by what I'm getting at. The 2PEngland, to the left of the room, talking to America... he has these weird powers. He can convert anyone, and acts as a mentalist antagonist. He hypnotized your brother, and now he's got all the information and battle tactics that your brother knows in his hands-"_

_"WHAT?!"_ Germany roared in his mind, _"How the hell do I get him out-"_

_"Just go with it for now. I know how your f-feel. We'll resolve it later. But just listen in, and you'll get all of what you need."_

The connection broke, and Germany blinked a few times, his heart pounding looking at his brother in pure rage.

_I'll figure this out, bruder... and end this war! _


	11. Chapter 11: All About Conversation

Chapter 11: All About Conversation

_"We have to mean something behind every word we speak. Or what we say is useless." _

. . .

Japan sighed as he trudged along the dirty path with his captured comrades, dragging themselves at his side. He kept quiet, feeling no need to talk. All the explanation was in front of him, and there was no reason to cause a verbal riot. America, however, was so persistent from shouting before they set off that this other Russia had to gag him.

At least there was one good thing. But with all the silence came the distant screams heard as they traveled, France's constant moaning, Britain's mumbled swearing, and the crunching of the path as they walked along.

Then something struck the Asian nation like lightning. He talked for the first time in what seemed like his period of isolation long ago.

"Russia-san..."

The 2PNation in front turned his bloodshot red eyes to the cowering Japan, and spit on the ground in front of him. "What." It wasn't even a question... he demanded an answer.

Japan asked softly, as though he were talking to a child. "W-where are we going?"

The Paradox's frown covered his entire face. "We are going to the worst concentration camp that's ever existed. You all are in for a treat today. Especially you, little America. i can't wait to see your brother's face when he sees you..." he partially snickered and turned his head, as though none of the captured nations were important enough for him.

America's eyes widened and he shifted his lips so that the cloth fell off from his mouth and drooped to his neck. "WOAH WOAH, you don't mean... this isn't your camp?!"

Russia's cheekbones rose; Japan could tell he was amused by this question.

"Oh, of course not. I'm minding my own business. If I had the pleasure, then I would kill you all in a heartbeat. No, no, little America, we're going to Canada's concentration camp-"

Now out of all the nations, France was in hysterical laughter. So much so that Russia's guards had to hold him up from collapsing on the ground and holding the line.

Russia snarled. "Why is this funny, you insignificant piece of French sh-"

"Well, well...!" France giggled sarcastically, "Oh, little Canada's going to hurt us! Si vous plea! Quick, defend yourselves while I distract him with maple syrup!"

Japan found this utterly amusing, while England's eyes narrowed with anger towards his fellow nation. Russia did not find this comment funny. With one blow, he knocked France unconscious with a swing of his fist. Everyone looked up immediately.

With the snow and wind blowing harshly at the crowd, 2PRussia looked invincible.

"I wouldn't cross that line. You little worms are nothing. Yes, it is Canada's concentration camp. He may seem non-existent in your world, but here, he's everywhere. And he'll make sure of it."

A chill filled the air as Japan looked at the ground in horror, terrified and trembling at what was to come. Then a few guards pushed Japan forward.

Russia snarled, gripping his coat. "Keep walking, worms."

. . .

Germany's eyes darted from left to right of the room, then at his brother, sitting helpless and oblivious at his side. His heart pounded so loudly that Germany thought the others could hear him. But his gaze was set on England, laughing at his success and sipping tea like a three year old girl. This was pitiful, even for Prussia to slip into his hands. But the German had to stay undercover.

Everything silenced as the candles lit and the electricity faded, dimming the room for an eerie effect. 2PItaly's eyes darted at the empty chairs.

"France is gone. But that's alright... I have some men going after him. He won't care though... I knew my little brother France too much for him to outsmart me at what his emotions are. However... Russia's not here-"

"I got a report from him."

Everyone's heads turned to the nation, preferring to be hidden in the shadows. His gruff voice pierced the hearts of those around him, even Italy, who quivered a little bit. But from Germany's perspective, all he could see are the dark shades shimmering while the unknown nation's head moved as he talked.

The nation continued. "... he said he captured America, England, Japan, and France and is bringing them to my camp."

Italy grinned, waving his hand. "Thank you, Canada. If you wish to join them, you may leave. I will keep you updated, my friend."

And in a flash, Canada stood from his seat like an apathetic statue and walked out like a soldier. Germany had never seen a nation so robotic and harsh as that one.

Italy leaned in his chair, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "Then we shall commence. First comes our newest victim, who sits here with us. All thanks to England."

The British nation bowed, jumping off his chair, fixing his bow-tie. "Oh, you all flatter me, loves~! It's all about conversion!"

America scoffed. "You must be high on your cupcakes, bitch."

"Oh, calm down with your chatter, my little poppet~!" England sneered, mockingly waving his hands, trying to blow America away. Germany stood still, his eyebrow twitching under pressure. That was the man who conquered his big brother's will?

England giggled and turned to Germany. "Now see here, Germany, you hunk, you..."

Germany closed his eyes, turning to the wall.

England sighed. "Aw, must be shy, huh? Well, I'll still explain it, since you didn't show up for my tea-party yesterday. I used my eyes to gain access of this boy here... right, lovey~?"

Germany glanced at his brother with intensity shining in his blue eyes. Prussia, unexpectedly, answered England in monotone. "Yes, sir."

"And what else happened?" the British Paradox interrogated, purring to himself.

"I gave all the necessary information to my general. For he is the one to know everything. And I will do as he commands."

Germany twisted his head forward in horror, pleading silently to his brother. He knew that his opposite would feel this pain, but it needed to be given out; to finally express his feelings.

_"Why must you make me SIT through this?!"_

2PGermany's words repeated in his head, unable to stand silent. _"Don't give yourself up yet. W-we still need you. Look at your brother... he's willing to protect you by giving himself up. That's bravery... you'd only waste his sacrifice."_

Prussia turned away, facing Italy, still in his chair. Italy then glanced at the Prussian, then the inwardly furious German man, then back at England. "Lovely."

"That's what I was going to say-"

"SHUT UP." Japan demanded, throwing a katana at the ground, then sinking to his seat. The tension in the room ceased to exist and Italy continued, nodding his head at Japan.

"Now," mused Italy, cracking his neck purposely, "This meeting is not just about the confirmation of Prussia's forced alliance, but about our attack. How shall we pursue this, brothers of Eight?" An eyebrow rose in amusement.

America scoffed. "The fuckers that are our opposites are already here. They think that they can attack us... well then, they got an ass-kicking coming their way."

China nodded, snickering to himself. "In terms of who is already captured, we just got report that Russia nabbed the obnoxious loud cheeseburger nation, the flirtatious country that smells of rotting cheese, the nation called England who seems very persistent to get out of this mess, and... Japan, who seems quiet, but hasn't shown any signs of his abilities or disabilities. We need to keep watch, even if they are captured."

Italy smiled. "Hm, good. It's better to real in the fish anyways. Anyone got a report on my opposite? Where is that little coward, anyways? Probably shit his pants so much that it weighed down his speed."

Echoes of vicious laughter spread like wildfire. Germany couldn't find it possible to choke down his upcoming screams, but found the willpower to hold himself.

Italy smiled. "Germany, my good friend, anything to add?" The poisoned words dripped in sarcasm.

Germany help himself, locked eyes with his brother, then looked ahead at the wall in front. He stuttered, but he really wanted to attack. He held himself in position.

"Nein, not y-yet. I wonder, though, w-where France had gone?"

Silence lingered as Italy sank into his throne again, musing.

"Good point, for once... unusual, Germany, that you were upright in peer pressure... oh well." Italy turned away, facing Japan, exchanging glances.

England glanced at the German nation, unaware of the strange rush of emotions that he noticed from afar. The German was not himself. Usually he would scream out something, or just stutter away in confusion to avoid England, but this one kept to himself. He was silent, but his expression... England craved it.

It wasn't the real Germany. Those eyes of blue hidden under the shadow of his hat...

England grinned like the Cheshire Cat. This was going to be the best interrogation yet. And no one had any idea that this was what he intended.

"Prussia, my love, just get a little closer to Germany here, to show him that you indeed exist. I don't want there to be any tension~! Besides, he seems a little... uncomfortable."

Germany ceased in place. England guessed correctly. The odds were in his favor. Italy turned to England, but the British nation winked, and Italy smiled, satisfied by his friend's intention.

America sighed in annoyance, whispering to England. "What the fuck are you doing-"

"Just watch. It's cute, the way he'll squeal at the sight of his real brother."

The American snickered, realizing the situation. "Ah. So you think...?"

"Oh yes, loves. He's not the real Germany we know and love, deep in our hearts. It's another puppet whose strings need to be... reattached."


	12. Chapter 12: The Cowardly and the Brave

Chapter 12: The Cowardly and the Brave

_"It's hard to beat someone... especially when that enemy that you loathe so much... is yourself."_

. . .

Canada sighed, walking the streets with his pet polar bear. His curly head turned on every corner, seeing nothing but muddy, desperate, but brave citizens of this cruel world. He shrunk back despite himself. He'd been doing that his whole life.

Scared of everything, so hesitant of life and speaking for himself. He'd stutter at every world he'd mumble. And how would be help anyone if he couldn't even verbally defend himself?

He looked at his partners at a distance, noting their behavior. Romano was surrounded by all these people, and all he had been doing was swearing like a sailor. Some savior. And Spain stood there, trying to calm the situation.

Canada kept walking forward, away from the crowd. There was really no use for him, an unspoken country. How would he help anyone... just by standing there? Even his brother, the obnoxious goofball he'd known since they were little infants, never could recall his presence, even in World Meetings.

He clenched his fists in utter frustration, his face burning red. "Wh-why can't I even say anything...?"

Then a feeling of raw anger washed over him. Not anything he'd felt. It was someone else's anger. This feeling of darkness consumed his thoughts. Canada himself was not angry and in rage, but... it was a vision.

"Don't... DON'T!" It was his brother's voice, piercing his mind. He looked terrified, bound in chain, and bloodied. Then Canada stepped forward, lifting something metallic.

America screamed, and Canada was back in reality, clutching his head, his thoughts reeling.

This was bad. REALLY bad.

Canada twisted his head to observe the scene before him. The citizens seem not to notice him, nor Romano and Spain. The Canadian sighed in relief. It wasn't a surprise that he would go unnoticed. He ran away from the city in sweat and panic, dragging Kumojirou with him.

"Why are you running?" the stuffed bear asked casually.

Canada stiffened, but whispered his answer. "I saw my brother getting hurt... I'll find where he is, eh!"

. . .

"Wake up..."

Italy's eyes blurred, stirring from a long rest. The light coming from France's window was almost blinding, and Italy squinted, trying to interpret the sudden movement around him. "Wha-?"

"Wake up! Don't be stupid, Italy!"

Soon France was shaking the Italian nation in sudden urgency. "Ve~! I'm up, I'm up! Don't hurt me, Germany! Please!"

"Augh! Do something right, Italy! We have to go, now!"

Italy's vision cleared and was horrified to discover that the lights coming from the windows were from helicopters hovering over the apartment. The country immediately went into hysteria. "I don't wanna die!"

"Shut up!" France hissed, covering Italy's mouth. He looked around for a small second, then leaned into Italy to explain his upcoming plan.

"Listen and listen well. We need to get out of here. Your opposite knows we're here, for some strange reason. But as of what I understand, your friends are fine. We just need to find a way out-"

France was interrupted by a loud, incessant echo in the distance. "The paradox country of France... you MUST surrender the hostage you have or the termination of your country will proceed-"

France rolled his eyes while Italy stared at the man in horror.

"Eh... they say that every time, but it's basically a slap on the wrist from big brother Italy. Now c'mon, you. We have an emergency exit around here somewhere..."

Then the crash of the window pane alerts the two countries. France, reluctantly, lifted up his carpet and from the slivers of open wood, Italy saw a pullout basement door.

"Now let's go before they come in." The paradox French nation lifted the door, inviting Italy in with a nonchalant facial expression.

Italy stiffened, looked at the broken window, and cringed, climbing down with France.

Then France shut the door in a hurry, pulling Italy's arm along with him. "C'mon."

The Italian ran along with his protector, and both could hear the swearing of the guards from the other side, reluctantly getting harder to hear because they hadn't figured out the secret entrance. France smiled as he continued sprinting.

They stopped after a few minutes, catching their breath. Italy then had the chance to look around.

They were surrounded by underground pipes and were in the underground sewers. The stench of rotting objects were evident in the humid air, and the water wasn't clear, but murky green.

"And guess what? We have to trudge through it. Have fun getting your precious Italian brand clothes all dirty. Let's get going. I have a surprise for you."

Italy froze in fear, but groaned in sympathy to himself. He stepped in the unsanitary sewage, trudging, trying desperately to hold his nose. France seemed very determined, almost jogging.

"Mr. France..." Italy beckoned after a few minutes, "Where are we going, exactly?"

France spat in the water, walking along ahead. "You'll find out. Man, what I'd do for a cigarette right now..." The French paradox nation sighed.

Italy was in pure panic. He trusted this France before, but it seemed like Italy's conscience sparked within him. A danger of some kind. This France had fed him, sheltered him, and helped him escape. But it just pulled on him that something wasn't right.

"Mr. France?"

The paradox nation turned around in annoynace. "What-"

"Can I trust you?"

France looked at Italy with a blank face, unemotional. "Wha-"

"I can't trust anyone right now! I-I'm in this world where people do bad things and get rewarded for them! You're supposed to be the opposite of Big Brother France, and I trust him more than anything! So... how can I trust you...?"

France declined to a full stop, turning his head around to a rather panicked Italy.

Out of the dead silence, he rose his voice in a bitter tone. His violet eyes pierced the Italian's soul, and everything seemed to freeze in its place.

"I may not be considered your familiar France. I do not love. I only feel apathy. I've never had this heart feel anything in quite a long time. But I do know one thing for certain... that I would never run away."

Italy paused time, and his eyes opened and widened. Realization hit like an arrow to the heart. He relaxed, looking at the murky water. He saw himself crying.

France turned forward, knowing what Italy's response was. "I know my mission. But I show no emotion. Let's keep going."

. . .

Germany was so stiff that his pulse stopped. His brother, completely unaware of all of this madness, was pushing him to confess. His own brother.

This England knew. And from what Germany saw in America's self-conscious smirk, he was aware too. He was cornered, trapped. Like a mouse.

Italy turned nonchalantly to Germany. "Anything the matter, Germany?"

He was going to loose it. He couldn't have gotten any more red. If his face hasn't given any hints, then his eyes must have. The shade wasn't enough for the German's widening eyes. He didn't face the 2PItaly, but shook and trembled. It was what he unintentionally and intentionally did. That's what his opposite would do, right?

"Bruder... speak to me, Bruder..." he whispered, hoping for one chance. He faced his brother with some spark of hope in his eyes.

Then the extraordinary happened. Prussia's lips spread apart, and he mouthed:

"Italy."

The visions that Germany received had never been so overwhelming. He saw himself as a child, grasping a broom, giving it to a confused girl with a familiar curl. Then he saw himself get attacked by an unknown nation, and blacked out after a few milliseconds. Then he opened a box of tomatoes and saw a young nation pop out, pleading for mercy...

"Italy." Germany whispered.

Then all hell broke loose.

The German man launched himself at the 2PItaly, who was rather surprised by this reaction, but saw from the intensity on his comrade's face that it wasn't actually his cowardly comrade, but a spy. After a few moments, everyone at the meeting seemed to notice this and pulled out their weapon. Germany gave a quick blow to Italy's opposite, and he felt all this release coming out. It felt so good to give revenge.

Italy pulled out his knife, but Germany kicked it violently to the floor, away from his victim, punching him over and over again.

Then a rough blow came towards his side and America screamed for blood, running towards Germany to batter him. England remained on the sidelines, laughing in hysterics at the chaos. A coward none the less.

But a coward always seems to run right into the same problem. He was punched right in the side of the face, sending him backwards, landing right into the wall.

Germany looked up amongst the struggle between him, America, and Italy, and saw Prussia gripping his fist, trembling, holding his head.

"BRUDER!"

Prussia turned, grinned his infamous grin, and paused to see the horror in front of him.

Japan struck his sword right through Germany. Quick a lightning, without any sound.

Prussia couldn't make out the scene in front of him. He felt like he'd woken up suddenly and had this huge headache, and this dream was turning into a nightmare he hadn't woken up from yet. The blood he saw was Germany's.

"No... Bruder... what..."

Germany collapsed. And Prussia, for the first time in his life, ran away.

Italy, seeing Germany on the ground with a sword struck through his heart, rolled his eyes.

"Let him go. Don't even look. This one's all we need."

"He's dead, Italy-san," Japan issued.

The lead of the Great Eight shook his head. "Unconscious, maybe, but not dead. I'm sorry to tell you, Japan, but we can't kill a country unless the opposite can do it."

Japan stiffened, looking at the blood on the floor.

"So if our Germany were here-"

"-He would be able to kill him. But he's a traitor. Besides, the man is better to us alive. The ex-nation that just escaped, or ran out, doesn't know his brother's still alive."

America sneered, spitting on the collapsed country, grabbing him by his hair. "I'll drag him out. England, you okay? That fucker got'cha good!" He laughed.

England stood up, clutching the wall. Then the British nation looked up, laughing away with America, giving a thumbs up. "Jolly~!"

Italy rolled his eyes for the second time. "Let's get going. This was good for us."


	13. Chapter 13: Something to Prove

Chapter Thirteen: Something to Prove

_"Don't keep your regrets. Throw them out, and more on. Or they'll end up haunting you for the years to come."_

. . .

Russia immediately stood up in his seat, seeing 2PGermany's eyes widen in disbelief. China looked back at his new accomplice, worried.

"Everything okay, aru?"

"From Mr. 2PGermany's face, nothing's fine apparently."

Russia and China turned towards the trembling nation, eyebrows raised. Then the German cringed, clutching his head, stumbling backwards, but was saved by the chair behind him. He blinked and shook with terror.

"G-Germany was captured."

China stuttered, realizing how bad the situation was. "HOW? Was it that bad?"

"No, no... my opposite lost it after a few minutes-"

"That's more time that I thought he could hold it in," Russia pointed out blankly.

"... but his brother was there, and somehow Prussia got away and woke up from his trance... but it looked like Germany got stabbed to death by Japan."

Silence and shock took over the atmosphere. But China's outburst seemed to have shaken the earth. The surprise and upset behind his question was nothing that could have been described.

"...what... WHAT?"

Russia never had shown emotion. Not in history, not in the past. But now was a different story. A nation had withered away to dust. His feelings shown clear as day.

But 2PGermany clenched onto the desk, shaking. "But he's not dead. That's the thing. I-I'm the only one who can kill him..."

China blinked. His immediate rage stirred his insides. "Don't you think-!"

2PGermany twisted his face, full of pain. "No, never! I wouldn't ever think about it... but in order to kill a country, you need to be their opposite. I-if I were the one trying to get killed, then your Germany would have to do the honors."

The three nations stood in cold feet. Even 2PGermany was at a standstill at his own realization. "T-there's also the possibility that I could kill myself, but I'm needed more than ever now. I can tell you both that I'm no threat-"

"And we don't doubt that, aru," China sighed, "But I'm concerned for the countries that could be blown over from just the wind. Canada, and Italy..." China shuttered.

"Ah, but both have that reason to run away. They have the brains and emotion... their opposites, however... even if they're evil as evil gets, they could be beaten by heart," Russia smiled. The two other countries turned to question the Russian's theory, but Russia was already persistent at trying to explain his words.

"A country is like a fire. It starts, and sometimes, the fire falters, but rises up again. Take 2PItaly, for example. He grows into this wildfire, unstoppable, impossible to imagine. But, as time and nature take their rebellion, that fire is cooled and long gone. Italy, however, is a spark of hope. It's little, but it never dies out. It may, in fact, keep growing."

China said nothing, and turned to his friend with a sudden appreciation. 2PGermany smiled, turning his head, facing the roaring flames of the fireplace.

"May we hope for the best. B-but we have friends in danger... we need to help them if Germany's captured and Prussia's lost and confused out there. As for your Italy, I only hope that he's alright..."

A silence overcame the trio and they stood in their own state of mind. Then Russia grinned insanely, exposing teeth and wild eyes. He stood up slowly, chucking to himself. China exploded out of his seat, hyperventilating. "What is this, aru?!"

"We have an unwanted guest, my dear China... and it just so happens..."

He paused for dramatic irony, and nodded to a knowing 2PGermany. Russia walked ran towards the window, punching straight through the glass, and grabbing the neck of a spy, thrusting and pulling him into the room. The victim cringed at the thought of getting caught. He saw the faces of his enemies through folded eyes, and China nearly collapsed at the man's presence.

"... that it's your opposite, da."

China was facing himself.

From the perspective of China, he saw himself as a snitch, a coward, but seemed so young and naive that every little lie or rumor could persuade him. He held this expression of disgust in his face that reflected China's usual expressions of annoyance. His red eyes lit up in warning, and was utterly embarrassed of getting caught. He was young, and needed to learn from his elders. But overall, he saw himself.

From the perspective of Paradox China, the man in front of him was old as slugs. Four thousand years old, at least, give or take a few centuries. But he seemed intelligent and experienced enough to know what he was doing. There was so much that he'd gone through that Paradox China had no idea about. He was ancient; an old man. But overall, he saw himself.

Russia smiled. "You two need to get acquainted, da?"

2PChina tried to wriggle himself out, his fingers twitching to get out of Russia's chokehold. "Urgh! Wait 'till you meet OUR Russia... he'll eat your Russian guts and spit them out for the vultures!"

Russia squeezed tighter. "That's cute." He kept his smile.

Then Paradox China turned to Germany sitting casually at the kitchen table. "You! Argh! You're dead! Wait 'till you get sent to Ita- urgh!"

Germany simply squirmed, silently begging for mercy. China stared in complete shock at himself. Russia, however, couldn't have been more happy.

Russia brought 2PChina's face to his. "You say the same things, da? Let's sit you down so you can calm yourself down. Comrade Germany, do you have any rope of any kind?"

"Y-yes, in the closet."

"Tie him down, aru," China struggled to form words, blinking from seeing his paradox, "... we need a hostage-"

"You won't get anything out of me, old man!"

"I'll quiet him down, da?" Russia asked, and without anyone agreeing to his statement, Russia tore some of Germany's tablecloth and gagged the choking paradox chinaman. All that was heard were the muffled screams of the victim as 2PGermany, with a lot of nervous feelings, tied him up with the rope he had available.

China tried to absorb all the events that had just occurred the past few minutes. He clutched his head in upset, but Paradox Germany came to him in sympathy. "N-now you know what it feels like to see your opposite?"

China bit his lip, staring at Paradox China. "Sadly yes. He's young... but he's just like me. The opposite, but relatable more than any other ally I've had, aru. It's a horrible thought... that the nation that is your worst enemy can relate to you... that is you."

. . .

Canada was in the middle of nowhere. Following some instinct in the back of his mind, but had no idea where his feet were taking him. Even Kumajirou was questioning his wandering.

"Where are you going?"

Canada turned to his teddy bear. "I have no idea. But it's best that we go this way, right?"

They were walking for miles on this highway that seemed to go on for eternity. All the cars that were there were left for abandonment or were utterly destroyed on the tar road. As the sun set, heat was setting in. Canada had to remove his jacket and carry it with him. Then, after a few hours longer, Canada squinted in surprise, blinded by the light coming from one of the tunnels from the highway. He turned to his teddy bear in disbelief but his companion nodded, reassuring him. The Canadian gulped, and entered the arch with no intention of what he was going to see.

Inside the tunnel, besides crumpled cars and bodies, was a staircase that went even further down. It was like what America had... a street entrance to the subway. Though his heart was the loudest sound in the tunnel, Canada entered with sudden desires to go back to his world.

He walked right into the darkness, but he heard various screams... including his brother's voice. Miraculously, this was it. Canada started running, and Kumajirou couldn't keep up. "You're almost there!"

The Canadian raced to what he saw was personal hell. It was nothing that existed on his world, but was the worst concentration camp he'd ever seen.

Levels upon levels of blazing fire and heat. He saw his friends below... France, pleading for another way out, but the soldier that was whipping him was unwilling to give any mercy. France, with tears, was carrying the metal load with much struggle. England was also in the same situation, only he was bound by chain. Apparently he gave too much of a resistance. He looked utterly crushed.

Japan was nowhere to be seen, which concerned Canada. But his brother was to his right at a distance, kneeling right in front of two men Canada needed to get a closer look at to identify. He snuck in closer, and grabbed a nearby gun. Of course he didn't want to shoot anybody, but he would use the musket to knock someone out, of course.

He was completely out of character from seeing his friends and brother in such misery. So much out of character that he saw a nearby soldier and whacked him right beside the scalp... a perfect knockout. Out of realization of what he had just done, Canada squeaked in panic, and grabbed his jacket and hat.

"Sorry...! I'll make some pancakes for you later to make it up!"

After he felt confident that he could blend in, the Canadian walked with a pounding heartbeat right near his begging brother and the two other men. And Canada was in shock so much that his jaw dropped.

One was a version of Russia, a darker, unemotional version. He had frown marks on his face and cold eyes that pierced through the young nation's heart. And then the worst was that... he saw himself.

He looked away before his Paradox made eye contact, and gripped the musket. 2PCanada averted his eyes and turned to the begging American below his feet.

"I hate America, don't you, Russia?" There was only pure hatred oozing out of every word. 2PRussia nodded, content with agreeing.

"P-please... stop this! You've been keeping us here for too long!"

"Two days in my camp isn't too long, you naive obnoxious piece of shit." With one blow, Paradox Canada kicked America right on the side of his face, and the American crumpled, gripping the side of his face. A bruise the size of the Pacific Ocean formed on his cheekbone.

2PCanada snickered. "I've been wanting to do that to you for quite some time. How does it feel to be inferior? No hero for you. No savior to pick you up and give you courage... doesn't that sting a little bit?"

Paradox Canada lifted himself up from his chair, and Russia sighed. Canada's opposite kicked America in the gut, but found it suitable to pick up the American by the collar and drag him to the edge.

"Look here. Hear your friends and allies struggle and die. That's what I crave. That's the American dream, isn't it? Striving for success? This is my success... that I can finally be heard through showing my personal hell."

Something hit Canada hard. A pang of sorrow, but this intensifying anger overcame him. It was something so unlike himself that he went and did what he wanted to destroy this monster.

He took the musket, steadied it, and fired once.

Canada missed, and the sound of the gun echoed throughout the camp. Everyone looked up to see the nation who dared to fire.

Canada, short of time, looked up to steady his weapon again. Russia stood up in pure surprise, and America was begging through pleading eyes, so thrilled to see the brother he ignored most of his life, but still was on the brink of facing a fall that could break anyone.

The two Canada's made eye contact.

From the perspective of Canada, he saw a tyrant, a murderer, and a loudmouth. He was mysterious, but everyone knew him by sight, by rumor, or just even the slightest presence that could shatter the hearts of millions. His dull red eyes held no sympathy for anyone, and he carried his hockey stick like a scepter. An undeserving king to his throne. But overall, he saw himself.

From the perspective of Paradox Canada, he saw an insect. A bug. Someone who couldn't talk if he tried. An ignorance. Someone who wanted to be known more than anyone, even if he was out of character. A sweet soul, but ignored. But overall, he saw himself.

And Canada, at that precise moment, saw what he needed to do to spark a revolution.

He took the fire for the second time.

It hit 2PCanada right in the forehead, and the tyrant fell down without any words to be said. He was wide eyed, and collapsed on top of America. Dead and gone. His body disintegrated into ashes, and America shook at the sight he had seen.

Paradox Russia, on the other hand, had disappeared without a trace.

But the cheers of thousands augmented and piled on top of each other. America, bruised and battered, stood up to give the biggest hug Canada had ever received.

"You could have left me there," America muttered, glancing at the ashes behind Canada, "You hated me, man. Why? Did you want to be the hero?"

Canada shook his head, still in complete shock. "N-no. I wanted to prove that I was there for you."

America backed up, surprised by the response. But another voice from below caught both off guard. "Whoever shot up there, can you help undo these?"

"Whatever, Britain, you just ruined the brotherly moment!"

"Is that Canada who shot his opposite?! Bloody hell, I think I'm going to lose my lunch."

Canada laughed lightly, knowing that this was a moment that not only he was going to never forget, but would also give the nations a chance to truly fight back.


	14. Chapter 14: Hiding the Truth

Chapter Fourteen: Hiding the Truth

_"I see this young nation, and how ridiculous he looks. I thought it was only because he was on death toll, but it seems like his bravery was real."_

_. . ._

"Oh my little Canada~! Thank you so much!"

France had been clutching Canada's head, forcing the young nation into a bear-hug. Canada couldn't breathe at this point and went purple, shaking to get out of the Frenchman's embrace. France let go in confusion, and shook the thought from his head. He was just happy to be free of the dirty, grimy shackles he was chained to.

"Ah, little Canada... I m so happy to have raised you!"

"T-thanks, France..."

"I'm back! With Britain! The FACE family is back in action!"

Canada and France looked to see an energetic American and a very exhausted Englishman coming up from the tunnel. Britain was on the verge of losing it, but, using his gentleman's manner, dusted his jacket and looked at all of the nations with a stern gaze.

"There we have it. Everyone's out. Canada, thank you so much. America... I'll have a talk with you later."

"Whatever, man! We're free and we just killed a country!"

And America's back to his obnoxious self, Canada noted to himself. But then, a face appeared in the back of his mind. The Canadian's heart pounded, twisting his head around in a huge panic.

"G-guys... where's Japan...?"

. . .

The Paradox Russian laughed out of insanity and triumph.

It was all over the news. It spread like forest-fire. The astonishing fact that a weak, trembling country had beaten one of the most powerful nations on the Paradox Earth had been shocking. Russia never saw the Canadian as his friend, but a tool; a very powerful tool. But since that tool had been broken, he'd needed to find a new one. And he'd snatched the newest tool before anyone could find him.

Russia grinned and he dragged the Japanese man on the ground. It was amusing to see him wriggle and attempt to escape, but squirming there was not going to get him out of Russia's firm grip.

Japan was gagged and tied before the chaos in killing Canada had even started. When Russia was dividing the countries in Canada's concentration camp, he saw the Asian country and snatched him up. It was always good to have new recruits to do all the work for you when you had no mastermind at the time.

Russia frowned down at his captive. "Shh. Not now. We're taking you to see your friend Germany."

Japan's eyes widened as he tried to fight his way through the gag.

"Yes, that's right. I just got into contact with England, and it seems that one of your friends escaped, but Germany was spying as his other self. I find it funny that he was pretending to be some pussy, but he just exploded at the meeting... it makes me very amused, thinking back to what England said..."

Japan looked up to see his frown deepen, even though he exclaimed his sentence with some sort of enthusiasm.

"Oh. And you have an appointment with Dr. England. It's time to brainwash you, since Canada's concentration camp only scarred you."

Only then did Japan get in a little bit of panic. Russia tried to laugh, but only gruffly coughed, since he'd never actually shown any positive emotion before.

"Ah, England, America. Japan."

Japan had no choice but to face these demons that Russia had greeted. He cringed a little, but looked up from the ground. Russia even took the liberty of budging him upright, pulling at his hair to make sure he didn't miss any of the conversation.

Sure enough, the opposites of America and England were there. America... he was colder, more mature, violent, and brutal. It wasn't the America he knew and got along with. America snarled, lifting up his bat. "He looks like a fucking plush doll. Let's beat the shit outa-"

"Woah, woah, lovies~! He's so adorable! Let's be more gentle! And remove his gag, please!"

England came up to the trembling Japan, removing his cloth. From what the Japanese man had seen, this version of England was... eccentric. All these bright colors, and that bright personality... something wasn't right with him, and Japan could sense the mood without even meeting the nations.

But then a third country approached from the shadows. Himself.

2PJapan looked down at the nation in apathy.

From the perspective of Japan, the nation above him was merciless. Bloodthirsty. He clutched the sword in his hand like it was his lifeline. His red eyes shined seeing his newest victim bound in front of him. For the first time in his life, Japan was frightened. The underdog. But overall, he saw himself.

From the perspective of Paradox Japan, it was a little spark of pleasure. Another kill. Wonderful. He seemed timid. But he was something to be aware of... it didn't matter how much fright a person held, but the ability and confidence to overcome their fears that mattered. He was pulled up to see his potential murderer, but 2PJapan was started to have bothersome doubts about how easily this nation was going to be slain. But overall, he saw himself.

England sighed. "Beautiful, how a relationship like this forms. Who knows... you'll both be best friends by the end of the day~! But for right now... I need that nation, hehe! He looks thin... maybe some cupcakes-"

"Now hold up, shithead. Once we got Germany, we had him in your place to get his mind rearranged. He held up pretty fucking well. Nothing happened then, so how can anything work on this fucker?"

Japan almost smiled at this new information. Almost. But how was he going to get his mind changed by just one interrogation? The Japanese man narrowed his eyes.

"Excuse me. I can reassure you, England-san, that I am not a weak soul. Old, but not weak."

"Oh, love~! The German meanie was a fluke. He was so uptight and rude! He didn't even want any of my cupcakes! You, however... I know I'll have fun with you. I can even start right now if need be, you're already so weak! Just relax~"

Japan froze, not having the slightest clue what was going to happen. But he made the mistake of locking eyes with Paradox England. His mind started to fade, and he could only hear England's voice... it was almost like a sedative...

"It'll be just like falling asleep... no memory... just serving the other side~ yes, that's right...!"

Japan couldn't give out any longer. He was completely pulled in. His body was weak from the manual labor, and he couldn't move from the bindings. And everything around him was foggy and he was ready to just surrender-

No. No more surrender.

Japan snapped himself out miraculously. His doppleganger smiled with intention.

"You're going to have a tough time with that one. He knows what he's doing."

England fumed. Clearly he wasn't happy when his little mental tricks didn't work. "Oh! It's alright, we'll have to make him weaker, then. It's no problem~! It'll be just like little Prussia~!"

America sighed. "But didn't he break-"

"No. I'll make sure this one doesn't," England smiled sweetly.

. . .

Prussia ran for the nearest trace of civilization. He had just witnessed his brother's death.

He had no idea of what had happened before punching the son of a bitch England. He remembered America's cry for help, and the young nation running away from him through a tent exit. But nothing else came to mind except constant dizziness and blackness.

He clutched his head, still taking care of a constant headache. Why? Why was he running away when his brother had been murdered right in front of him?

And what about all of his friends? Italy?

Prussia ran faster in pure desperation to find any form of life. Someone he could tell the story about how he raised a wounded upcoming empire into one of the world's best countries. He wanted to keep Germany's memory and spread the word.

Then he spotted a huge pipe coming out of the gravel a block away. Running shadows cascaded onto the pavement. He looked upon this with red squinted eyes. Two people emerged from the pipe in a panic. One snarled in an attempt to quiet the second.

Prussia froze, and the two men copied his movement. A few seconds of heart shattering silence kept them all on their feet.

One of them spoke with a softness that Prussia hadn't heard in a long time.

"Prussia...ve?"

From the the corner of his eye, he saw a right-sided curl. Italy.

"ITALY! Mein gott, Italy!"

Prussia's heart melted seeing the young Italian in safe keeping. He ran to hug the first person he could trust. He gripped him tightly, almost on the verge of tears. There weren't any scars or bruising on the young nation's skin. He was well protected. It seemed that he was fed well too.

But flashes of Germany's final moments struck Prussia in the heart. He gripped Italy tightly.

He couldn't tell him. It would break his heart; shatter it into pieces.

"Thank goodness..." Prussia sighed, releasing the Italian, wiping his own forehead. Then he turned, seeing a rather smelly, unappealing Frenchman in front of him. Prussia turned around in shock.

"No friggin' way. Holy Fritz... you're France's opposite."

"But look, Prussia! This man saved my life over and over again, ve~! He's a good man! Not very fluffy and pretty, but a good man!"

Prussia took a while to examine France's opposite, but grinned in satisfaction.

"Well then, you have my awesome thanks, then."

Then Italy turned to Prussia, freaking out and in utter panic. "Prussia! You look a scratched and you've got blood on your knuckles! What happened, ve~?"

Prussia had to lie. He'd been good at it since he'd had to hide Holy Rome from the world, so he told Italy everything up until Germany's apparent death. Italy was entranced in the entire story, and France kept nodding his head, not surprised.

"And then, well..." Prussia had to make it up on the spot. He was holding back tears. "... After they found Germany out, they captured him. I'm sure he's not hurt, but I had to run out after other nations started attacking...it was so unawesome."

Italy stood there in horror, trembling like a small child. "Germany...? He's fine?"

Prussia couldn't force himself to lie, but the Paradox France had interrupted to calm his nerves. "Seems like it. But how did you get out of that meeting? I know England too well. And usually his little hypnosis tricks last longer than that."

Prussia's eyes widened in realization. "T-that was it! Mein gott, how did I forget? I had this cupcake, and it kinda blurred me out, and then his eyes were so weird and colorful... that must have been the reason!"

France turned to the Prussian, letting out a breath. "Maybe a trigger or something got you out of it. But for right now, we have other priorities."

Italy was shaking for dear life. France seemed to notice this and sigh. "C'mon."

They walked for a few miles, and noticed a range of televisions light up conspicuously. It showed the opposite version of Canada, and the headlines. Prussia squinted and Italy looked up in terror.

France read the television. "The nation of Canada was reported to have been shot and KILLED yesterday according to local residents. By the news of this tragedy, the nation of Canada had been freed from their historical slavery, praising the nation that set them free and killed their tyrant. The man above is a murderer and wanted for killing said nation."

Prussia's jaw dropped. "What the FUCK. Is that friggin' Canada?"

Italy smiled. "Canada! Ve~! Wait... who's Canada?"

Paradox France sighed, turning away from the glowing television. "Whatever the case might be, the bastard's dead. Our Canada has been ruling over me since I was a little child. I wished to see the day he was overturned, and there you have it. Like magic. I remember when he was on a mass killing. He'd line young nations up at the opposite sides of his concentration camp and hold no mercy for youth. He'd fire 'em all down. But he's done. Gone. By this little boy who looks like he could shit his pants at any occasion. Who knows... maybe some of us hold potential that we'd ourselves had never seen before."

The Prussian and Italian swallowed their bravado and followed France towards the opposite end of the deserted city, yearning to find some form of alliance.


End file.
